Of liars and thieves
by Bella
Summary: A slight AU of the bookmovie. Let's say it's a story about growing up and taking over responsibility for yourself and others and a story about love and friendship and the length you're prepared to go for it.
1. Chapter 1

**Of liars and thieves**

Disclaimer: This story is based on the characters of Cornelia Funke's _Herr der Diebe (Thief Lord)_. I don't make any profit out of this.

Summary: A slight AU of the book/movie and I don't know yet, if the merry-go-round will ever be used.

Pairings: PropxOC, ScipxOC, sorry, but this Hornet is just too bland for my taste to captivate the heart of any of the boys.

OH, almost forgotten: I'm no native speaker, so please go easy on me. I try to give my very best.

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It was quiet in their star lair but for the occasional groan of the old timbers and the soft sighs of the others in their sleep. If Prosper really strained his ears he thought he could even hear the water running below the old movie theatre. Sometimes he got the crazy vision of a great flood drowning the old city of Venice, the water level steadily rising until there was nothing left but an endless water plain from one horizon to the other. But in the four weeks he and Bo had stayed with the Thief Lord's little gang, he had learned to interpret his vision for what it really was.

His subconcious fear to be in over his head. Not for the first time he brooded over his decision to run away with Bo. Had it been right? Had it been best for Bo? And for himself? Their presence was bleak and their future didn't look much better, if he was honest with himself.

Turning on his mattress he looked over to his little brother who slept peacefully with Mr. Bear in his arms. The little kittens Lisa and Tygger groomed themselves almost noiselessly next to the stuffed animal. Bo was happy enough as it was. He was with this big brother, had enough to eat, clothes, a roof over his head and there was always someone to play with. He already begun to forget his native language German, to forget that there had been once a Boniface Carstens in Hamburg. And since they had been almost caught by her aunt one day, the blond haired German angel face had been transformed into a little black haired Italian devil.

But Prosper couldn't shake off his past as easily. He missed his home town, school, his friends, the carefree afternoons spent playing football or a computer game. And most of all he missed his chaotic but big-hearted mom. Her laugh, when he had come home from school and found her in her studio covered in marble dust, Verdi playing in the background, and shocked to find him already home, realising she had forgotten again about preparing lunch. Or her bent over some illustrations of a children's book with a critical eye, pulling him closer to have him look at the drawings and wanting to hear his opinion, if they were any good. He missed his old life period. Terribly so.

How was he supposed to provide for Bo without any proper education? How could he ever be a pilot like his father? And Bo – was his future already over before it had even begun? Heavy hearted he resolved to start homeschooling Bo first thing in the morning. He would do his damnest to give Bo every chance at a normal life like he hadn't any longer. He realised that to provide for a child was far more than feeding and clothing it. It was about setting a good example, giving a steady morale compass as guidance for life and the best possible education for a bright future.

But how was he supposed to do this? They were living with a bunch of little thieves led by a boy not much older than he who brought every so often a small bag of haul for him, Prosper, to sell. To buy the bare necessities. Bo adored the Thief Lord, expressing his wish to become one day a thief a great as he. Prosper felt he led a loosing battle against Scipio's pull on them. How could he make Bo understand that it was all wrong what Scipio, what _he_ did? That you weren't allowed to take what wasn't yours. How dangerous it was to let themselves being chased in a racing boat by the police? For him it was all big fun, because he couldn't oversee the consequences. And for Scipio? Was it just a much sought adrenaline rush? The smell of danger, the blind adoration of the others? When they had first met, Scipio had been nothing but an arrogant and way too cocky show-off in his books. But now?

Kneading his small pillow into a new shape, Prosper settled down again, closing his eyes against the night lights of the Stella with a deep sigh.

Now he felt he couldn't be anything but grateful– despite the stealing and everything.

One time Mosca and he had been out at their favourite pier away from the tourists hords, fishing. Or least pretended to do so, when they had started to talk about Scipio and how everyone of them had been picked up by him and brought to the Stella. And it was then when Prop began to realise how fortunate they really had been that first night in Venice. How easily they could have crossed the path of Benito Scarface who held Burano and crept from time to time into old Venice trying to expand his territory. Mosca feared the Scarface. That teenage boy made his gang beg and steal. They were mostly purse-pickers and pocket-pickers. And there was hell to pay if they didn't bring enough day after day. Shuddering Mosca whispered about beatings and stuff. Compared to such a hell, Prosper and Bo had found Paradise with Scipio.

Scipio never asked for his share, he ate very rarely with them, but loved to celebrate. He never came in the afternoons, only deep in the night and vanished into thin air after every visit and every prey for a couple of days. And never, ever had he slept with them.

Prosper mulled over this.

Where did Scipio go when he left? Where was he when he wasn't with them? He didn't asked for his share, so how did he feed himself? Where did he sleep? His clothes were old and tattered, but always clean. Bo said Scipio smelled nice, when he was carried around by his next to his brother biggest hero. Was it the detergent of Scipio's clothes? His hair was always freshly washed, not like the neighbourhood children, who had parents but were too poor to be properly cared for in that aspect or their own hair for that matter. Who was Scipio the Thief Lord really?

Wide awake Prosper sat up. What had he just thought?

Who was Scipio the Thief Lord _REALLY_?

Was the Thief Lord not real? Prosper's heart started to hammer in his chest.

IF the persona of the Thief Lord wasn't real, the big questions were WHO was Scipio and WHY did he did what he did and for what purpose?

He let himself fall back onto his matress. He'd used the next opportunity to follow Scipio, whereever he might go. He needed to know, if there was any more danger lying ahead for Bo and himself.

_To be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

Three days later the next opportunity had arrived and Prosper followed carefully using every cover a strutting Scipio. From time to time the Thief Lord turned around as if he sensed he was being followed. Long ago Prosper had lost any sense of direction in the tangle of the old and narrow alleyways and small piazzas and a dozen times he had waited with baited breath, pressed into the shadows that Scipio started walking again. But he couldn't help notice after a while that the dimly lit alleyways turned into lit little streets, run down houses made way for stately little homes. Little streets turned into wider boulevards and stately little homes into proud casas and palazzi. Up to now Prosper had thought he had learned all of Venice, but this area was completely foreign to him. Palazzo Pisani shot through his mind. Wanted Scipio to break into the Palazzo tonight? And why had Scipio thought he would fit in perfectly? Even if it was crowded with partying guests all the time, a teenage boy in a peacoat and sneakers would eventually draw attention to himself not being exactly one of the lot.

Following Scipio at a comfortable distance he suddenly stood like he had run into a wall. One moment Scipio had walked leisurely in front of him, the next he was gone! Where had he vanished to? For a fraction of a second he was relieved to see his leader again emerging out from a shadowy corner but immediately had to seek cover behind an upturned boat lest Scipio saw him. With wide open eyes Prosper watched him swing a hook with an attached rope. With a quiet scratching noise the hook found a grip with the balustrade of a small balcony and with a fast beating heart Prosper watched Scipio nimbly climbing up that rope and vanishing in the shadows of the dark casa. Prosper fully expected to hear any second now the ringing of a blazing alarm, but nothing. It stayed eerily quiet but the soft lapping of the canal water against the pier.

He felt awed by his Thief Lord's performance. He truly was a master and a brilliant one on top who only took little things of mediocre value whose loss wasn't immediately noticed by the owners. So they never could tell the exact point of time, when the goods had been stolen. Some of the richest might never learn that they been visited by a thief in the night. Where there was no loss, there was no police. He couldn't help but grin widely and proudly.

And then he had almost a coronary, when two windows down the light got turned on. Had Scipio been discovered? But after a few minutes of breathless waiting the window got dark again. Why wasn't the alarm ringing? Why was the house dark again? Where was Scipio? Had he been discovered? Why wasn't the police arriving? When you found a burglar in your home the thing normal people did was calling the police if they had been able to overwhelm him, wasn't it? Had he tried to rob the wrong people? Was this a Mafia house? Was he held somewhere in the cellar? Had Venetian houses cellars at all? Were they're hurting him?

Nervous and agitated Prosper ran his hand over his face. What was he supposed to do? Call the police himself? But that would mean to hand Scipio over to the authorities. Maybe he would go into juvenile prison?! Prosper had heard of those. If you weren't all bad before, you were when you left. Horrible things were supposed to happen there. Prosper flushed. Scipio was by all means a good looking guy. What would he have to face at a place like that? Crude jokes about boys bending over to grap a soap bar flashed through his mind. He used to laugh about these jokes, but now he couldn't find them even remotely funny anymore. Should he try to enter the casa, too? But how? Scipio had removed the rope and what did he know about opening doors anyway? Maybe Scipio just waited to let the house owners settle down again, hidden somewhere in a remotely safe place within the house. If he came banging at the door, he might ruin everything and turn them both in. Never since they had come to Venice Prosper had felt so helpless and useless. Heavy hearted he decided to wait until the morning. There was nothing he could do for Scipio now.

Some time during the night and his watch he must have dozed off, when the chug of a small boat going up the canal woke him up. It was chilly being February and a slight mist wavered over the waters. Alarmed Prosper consulted his watch. Almost half past seven in the morning. He must have slept about five hours. Five hours in which God knows what could have happened to Scipio. More boats chugged along. This quiet part of Venice came alive. A racing boat bellowed with subdued power and landed in front of the house Scipio had disappeared into. Prosper sat up straight and watched closely. This boat looked strangely familiar to him. In fact it looked exactly like the one Scipio had stolen the night they had met.

The black entrance door opened and a familiar dark-haired teenage boy stepped out, wearing dark blue trousers and jacket and black polished shoes. A white collar protuded from under a mustard coloured shirt. A mustard and blue striped tie and a dark blue robe completed the outfit. He carried a well-worn but nontheless expensive looking school-bag. Nodding to the uniformed driver he sat down in the back seat.

"Good morning, Master Scipio" the driver greeted respectfully.

While the boat slowly went down the canal the last thing Prosper could see from his hiding-place was Scipio opening his school-bag to get out some books.

"Doing some last minute home-work, Thief Lord?" Prosper spat with narrowed eyes.

The feeling of helplessness was replaced by hot fury. Never in his entire life Prosper had felt as mad as this very moment. The Thief Lord was some rich boy's game. And they had all been his willing fools. Prosper bet Scipio Richboy had never ever stolen anything from anyone in his entire life. And they had believed his tales, they had believed in him. They had trusted him, admired and adored him and he had just played a perverted game with them. How he must laugh about the gullible lot of street kids. Prosper's cheeks burnt in shame with the knowledge that something akin to awe and admiration had overcome him the night before. And when Scipio hadn't returned how worried he had been that something had gone wrong for him. How a thousand scenarios had played in front of his inner eyes what they were doing to him. And one scenario worse than the former one. And all the while the freaking bastard had just returned home and gone to bed!!!!He practically shook in rage thinking how freaking helpless and useless he had felt, when he had thought something bad had happened to his friend! Because that's what Scipio _had_ been to him. A friend. But not anymore! And never again! He was through with the Thief Lord! In fact, why was he still standing around watching more posh boats picking up more rich children in posh school uniforms to be brought to posh private schools where they learnt to crush little hearts below their feet.

"Ahem…" someone behind him cleared his throat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Slowly Prosper turned around and stood in front of a blonde girl in faded jeans, a green duffle coat and winter boots, carrying an old rucksack serving as a school-bag.

"Care to tell me why you stare at our boat as if you want to will it to burn just by virtue of your thoughts? What are you – Superman in training?"

But Prosper could only stare at her. And when she smiled Prosper had to breathe in sharply. She had the same dimples like his mother. Suddenly the Liar Lord wasn't important anymore and all the rage was blown away. The girl's smile turned into to a puzzled expression.

"Do you understand me? Are you a tourist? Are you lost? Can I help you?"

Slowly Prosper nodded and shook his head afterwards.

"Yes, yes, no, I don't think so. Maybe. I just stood up earlier than my parents. I wanted to have a look at the city for myself first."

Appalled Prosper fell silent. How easily he lied all of a sudden. Embarrassed he shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat.

"Well, in that case… Think you find your way back?"

"Think so. Where am I exactly?"

"You're standing in front of the casa of the famous writer Victor Getz. You must have heard of him. He writes the "Venetian Mysteries". His books are translated into 56 languages and recently they started to make movies. My mom is his private secretary and we live with him and our cook Lucia. This is Fondamenta Bollani 235. And I'm Simona. Mona to my friends. Nice to meet you."

Flushing she hastily withdraw the automatically outstretched hand. Stupid manners!

"Prosper from Hamburg, Prop. Nice to meet you, too."

He stared at the cobblestones at his feet. What could he say next that didn't sound lame or stupid? And how could he learn more about Scipio? Simona must knew him, living next door.

"So..?"

"Ahm, I think I may be lost after all. I'm not sure in which direction is the Piazza San Marco? From there I know the way. I didn't pay much attention to where I was going, seeing all the beautiful palazzi and casas like this one." He pointed towards Scipio's house. "They look as if they're floating on the water. I mean, I do know they stand on dozens of wood stakes, but still it looks so unreal. And they must be really old."

"Yes, some date back to the 16th century in this street. This must be one of the oldest in the Fondamenta. It's the Casa Massimo, the family has owned it for centuries now. They're in the Venetian glass business. Victor says Mr. Big Head of Venice owns half of Murano and what else not. If there is a deal going on with glass, even window glass, you can be sure that somewhere in the background Dottor Massimo pulls strings."

"You sound as if you don't like him. Do you know him?"

"Let's say we had a run-in I don't want to repeat in the near future."

"How come?"

"Well, it was stupid, really." Simona was undecided for a moment, but then he really seemed to be interested and she didn't want him to leave yet.

"Well, a few months back it was my birthday and I wanted to do everything on my own. You know the decorations, the food, everything."

Prosper nodded understanding.

"How old are you?"

"I turned 15 in September. And you?"

"I'll be 16 in May."

"Anyway, I even insisted on buying the whole stuff on my own. So I had lots of bags in our little boat, actually it belongs to Victor, but we're allowed to use it whenever we need it. And three or four heavy crates with water and coke. And I was struggling lifting them out of the boat onto the street. And suddenly I've help from Scipio, Dottor Massimo's son. He gives me a hand and pulls up and I push from below. But then Mr. Big Head must have seen what Scipio's doing and starts shouting at him. He orders him to come back immediately like you command a dog. It was _awful_! He goes on about how Scipio needs to stop associating with the riff-raff. And that he has a mind about sending him away to his uncle's boot camp so he learns about obeying and having some discipline knocked into him. And all the while he grips Scipio's neck and shakes him hard like you might do with a disobedient pup for emphasis. And all that in front of his business friends and their sons, who find all this very amusing, considering their big fat smirks! It must have been _so_ humiliating for Scipio! And then that man turns around to me and warns me to never come near again to his son. As if I'd ever want to after that display! He'd know all about my kind! I mean, I didn't asked for his help and he didn't asked for anything in return. Besides, I'm not _that _kind of girl in the first place! And do you know what happened later?"

"No?"

"A day later Mom found a note in the letter box from Scipio saying SORRY! I mean, can you imagine that? He gets a dressing down of major proportions for absolutely nothing and he apologises for his father's allegations!"

Agitated Simona had started walking to and fro.

"Seems you like that bloke a lot…."

Simona blushed slightly and stopped.

"Like him? No, I don't know him enough to like him. But I feel real pity for him. I just think he's a very decent and very lonely boy. I can't imagine that he has many friends. It must be horrible for him to live with a father like that. See, so it's not all shine and glitter behind these posh facades."

"You mean the cliché of the poor rich kid that has everything yet nothing." Prosper answered reflectively. "But that's, what it is, just a cliché."

"But every cliché has a grain of truth in it."

"What about his mom? Can't she help him?"

"My mom says, Scipio's mom ran away, when he was barely out of diapers. Only four or five years. She says she used to be a doctor down at the hospital and went away to join Médecins Sans Frontières. You heard of them?"

"Yeah, they go to areas that have been hit by nature's force or by war to help people. They're absolutely independent and unpolitical and can go to places governments are reluctant to open up to outside help."

"Exactly. Mom says, Dottor Massimo has never forgiven Scipio's mother and that he may live in constant fear that Scipio will turn out just the same and develop a social conscience. The older he gets, the tighter the leash his father keeps on him. And if he keeps on choking him with it, Victor says, Scipio will lash out sooner or later. He thinks Scipio's a ticking time bomb waiting to explode."

"How do you know all this?"

"Remember, my Mom found his note and asked why he had felt the need to apologise to me. So I told her and she and Victor told me, so I can better understand where Scipio comes from. But let's forget about him and concentrate on you, Prop. You can walk with me to my school and tell me about yourself." Reddening she back-pedaled a bit. "That means, only if you want of course."

Prop felt a corresponding flush in his cheeks.

"They like to sleep in on holidays….and I'd like to walk with you for a bit… May I?"

He extended his hand towards the heavy looking school-bag and the flush became a burn in his cheeks. God, what was wrong with him? He cursed himself. What was so embarrassing about asking a girl to carry her books for her? It was the gentlemanly thing to do. Simona smiled and handed the old rucksack over.

"This way "she directed. "Now tell me all about yourself, Prop."

"Ahm…." Prop drew a complete blank.

"Hurry up, it's only a ten minutes walk and don't say you can tell all interesting facts and details about you in these ten minutes. I'd be sorely disppointed…."

Prosper gasped. Was she _flirting_ with him? Did that mean she _liked_ him? And was he supposed to flirt back now? His thoughts raced, while they were moving along the Fondamenta Bollani. He couldn't tell her anything but lies!

"I'd rather hear more about you, Mona…I expect, it'll be far more interesting than me telling you the story of my life."

Simona smiled brightly.

"Under that circumstances, prepare to be thrilled. Prepare to bite your nails when I tell you the fascinating and exiting highlights of Simona Spavento's young life…."

And she began to randomly tell Prop a few very short stories, which had him more often than not bursting with laughter.

"Beep, halftime. Now it's your turn. You've got five minutes to give me your stats. Do you have any siblings?"

"OH SHIT!" he cursed wide-eyed sobering quickly.

"Listen, Mona, I'm terribly sorry, but I have to got now. But…but if you like…maybe tomorrow? Same time, same place?"

"Prop? What's wrong?"

"Sorry, but I absolutely have to go now. Until tomorrow? Please?"

Taken by surprise Simona couldn't help but agree.

"Well, yes, I guess so…."

"GREAT!"

Relieved Prosper smiled widely, gave back her school-bag and then turned around and began running down the street in opposite direction.

Confused Simona looked for a moment down the street after him, then shrugged and turned around. Boys were decidely weird sometimes and tourist boys even more so. The idiot didn't even know where he was going! Still, this Prop seemed to be nice enough and somehow she was kind of looking forward to meeting him again. With a glance at her watch her eyes turned huge and she began to run. She might make it to school almost on time.

In front of the cathedral San Marco Prosper had to slow down a bit. His side ached with stitches and his lungs burnt. In unison with the beating of his feet on the cobblestone, he berated himself. What the hell had he been thinking! Bo would be out of his mind with worry and fear by now. His big brother hadn't been there this morning, when he woke up. And why? Because his idiot brother had been too busy chatting with a girl to watch the time, that's why! And now he was supposed to meet her again. He slowed down even more. He would meet Simona again. He, Prosper, 15 ¾, orphan and currently on the run with his little brother from their evil aunt Esther and uncle Max and residing in an old unused movie theatre called Stella, the star lair, would have a date with a girl the next day. His very first date! Tomorrow morning! With a girl! A very pretty one! And smart! And funny! And had he already mentioned pretty? He felt like shouting it from the roof tops! Take that, Thief Lord! HA!

His elation deflated and a scrowl appeared on his face. He had totally forgotten about the biggest liar on Earth – Scipio Massimo aka Thief Lord aka Rich Boy.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks for the encouraging reviews! _

_Comment: This one's a bit shorter, but I agonized about how to present the following best. Reveal everything at once or bit by bit in later chapters. I decided on the latter option. And no, I haven't forgotten Scipio, but it's not his time yet. Besides, he's doing some thinking and dreaming of his own, so I'd rather not disturb him :-))_

**Chapter Four**

What was he supposed to do now? Tell the others? Continue like nothing had happened? What about Scipio? It was kind of hard to merge the Thief Lord and Scipio Massimo - one proud and bold, the other one decent and mistreated. One he wanted to throw into the Canal Grande, the other he wanted to help. One deserved the cold shoulder, the other one a caring embrace. And that was the connecting factor – the caring about people.

The Thief Lord wasn't cocky enough not to care about his little gang's well-being and Scipio Massimo not mistreated enough not to reach out to help others in need.

He felt he owed the Thief Lord too much to not care about Scipio. And strangely enough he felt he'd owe it Simona as well. He'd try to look past the anger and the betrayal and let him explain, even if he didn't really deserve it, or did he?

Confused and at odds with himself Prosper wandered back home only to be received by an angry Hornet and an unhappy Bo.

"Where HAVE you been the whole night?" she started even before he had come fully through the door.

Taken aback and overwhelmed by everything Scipio and Simona, Prosper felt he couldn't deal with a stinging hornet just now.

"Around."

"Don't you know how late it is already? We've been worried SICK! We've already thought you'd been caught by the carabinieri and locked up at the Merciful Sisters' orphanage. DON'T you dare do this again!" She lectured him to hide her relief.

"Chill it! I'm really in no mood for a dressing down from you. I'm here, okay? And leave me alone now. I'm tired and cold."

Frustrated he trudged up the stairs to his mattress, ignoring everyone else to their surprise. What had happened to set the usually very stable Prosper off?

"Don't you want to grab a bite to eat at least? You must be very hungry by now." She tried to placate the upset boy.

Riccio and Mosca exchanged glances. They had seen it all before with Hornet and their Thief Lord. It looked as if her crush had found a new object of affection. Half way upstairs Prosper paused, then turned around and plastered a smile on his face.

"No, thanks, Hornet. I'm not hungry. Maybe later, if you still have one of your homemade rolls."

He made a concious effort to make things right again between them. It wasn't fair to the girl to make her weather his temper. Happy again Hornet smiled back. He continued his way. Hurt Bo followed him quickly.

"You weren't there this morning. I've been so scared you were gone…." Bo said with a very small voice. Deeply ashamed Prop took him in his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Bo, that I wasn't here this morning and for ignoring you just now, but…I got lost." He fibbed.

"Lost? How?"

"I tried to follow Scipio tonight. I wanted to know where he's going, when leaves us…."

"Really?" Awed the small boy looked at him. Prosper nodded and gave him a real smile. From the next box he heard Mosca chuckle.

"Wasn't such a hot success now, was it?"

"What do you mean?"

"We all tried to follow him at one time or another. But we've always lost him sooner or later. And when Riccio slipped and almost crashed, while we were trying to follow him across the roof tops, we decided to give it up. He just leaps from roof to roof like a cat, slinks into the shadows and poof…gone he is."

Prosper became even more confused. When he had followed Scipio he hadn't ever needed to leap roof tops to keep track of him. And it had been he who had ducked into shadows instead of the Thief Lord who had walked in plain sight. Had he wanted Prop to follow him? For what purpose?

Tiredly Prosper stretched out on his mattress and scratched absent-mindly Lisa behind her ears. The small kitten miaowed softly and started to purr. Too much had happened in too little time. He couldn't and didn't want to think about it anymore.

Closing his eyes, he said goodbye to his friends.

"Sorry, guys. I'm done for now. See you a bit later."

_to be continued, when Prosper learns a bit more about his own lies and deceptions_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_Comments: Chapter Five in which Prosper makes a very difficult decision, goes through hell and gets rewarded for honesty. _**  
**

The next morning Prop shook Bo slightly to wake him up.

"Why are you dressed?" The little boy rubbed his eyes.

"Shhh….I'm going out. I'll be gone for a while."

"Do you go with Scipio?" he whispered.

"No, I've…." Prop smiled embarrassed. "I'm going to meet a girl."

"Is she nice? Can I come, too?"

"Yes, she's very nice. And no, you can't come. Maybe another time. Now go back to sleep and don't tell the others. It's a secret between you and me."

Grinning Bo turned an invisible key in front of his lips. He loved all kinds of secrets - as long as he was in on them. He let himself be tucked in by his big brother and closed his eyes to fall asleep again. His last sensation was Prop pushing some hair out of his face and stroking his cheek tenderly.

To get rid of his nervous energy Prosper skipped little pepples into the water from his hiding-place behind the boat when he heard a door open behind him. He turned around and was greeted by a shy smile.

"Hi, you're early."

"Well, I'm…." He shrugged instead. You couldn't tell a girl that you had come a bit early hoping she'd be early, too, so you could spend more time with her.

"Hi, you, too. Early that is. Good morning." He smiled softly.

Simona blushed. She had so hoped the boy would be there a bit early, so she could talk to him some more.

"Good morning to you, too. Now, would you like to tell me, why you ran away yesterday?"

"Ahm, I had totally forgotten about my little brother Bo. We share a room and I'm supposed to watch him and I…I…"

"You were afraid that he'd wake up and get scared, when you're not around?"

Though somehow embarrassed Prop nodded. Would she think he was some kind of pushover?

"That's very sweet of you. How old is he?"

"He's already six and a third." Simona could hear loud and clear his pride.

"And today? Will you run away again?"

Prop gave her a lopsided smile.

"No, I've told him that I'd be back later and that he shouldn't worry…."

"Won't he tell your parents that you sneaked out of the hotel?"

"No. It's a secret between us."

"I see. So, Prosper from Hamburg, what have you seen of Venice so far?"

And five minutes later the teenagers were in deep discussion as they made it slowly to her school, taking many essentially unnecessary detours to reach it.

Over the next few days Bo watched his brother spacing out from time to time and a ridiculously silly smile would appear on Prop's face. And then he knew his brother wasn't with him anymore but with some mysterious girl in his thoughts. He wasn't sure, if he liked the thought of Prop being with a girl, but then it seemed to make him happier and smile more. He returned to the task of making his "h" look like an "h" while pressing the pencil not too hard onto the paper lest the lead didn't break.  
Prosper sat next to Bo watching his attempts at writing the alphabet. At least he was supposed to watch him but mind and heart were with Simona and what he had done this very morning.

_They had met at five and a damp waft had been coming from the canal that had chilled him to the bone. But then Simona had come out to take him by the hand and lead him into the house. And there he had found some pillows and an blanket, illuminated by a lonely candle burning. With rosy cheeks they had huddled together under the blanket and watched the candle slowly burning down while the night's black had turned into shades of grey, content to keep silent and feel the other next to themselves. And there and then Prop had felt it. A million butterflies had moved in his stomach, he had felt hot and cold and his heart had been beating twice as fast as usual. And he had felt the almost overwhelming urge to kiss the girl sitting beside him, who had looked so alluring in the soft flickering light. And he had leant towards her before he had caught himself and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to calm down._

_"Prop? Why did you… stop?I wouldn't be angry, if…you know."_

_"Oh God" groaned Prosper, leaning his head against the wall in his back, welcoming its cool hard surface.  
_

_"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."_

_"What's wrong?"_

_"I can't do this!"_

_"You don't want to…?" Suddenly her voice was small and she looked into the candle light as if it was her sole anchor to the world. She felt cold, so cold._

_"NO! I do want to…more than you can imagine. Please believe this, but there are…" he paused searching for words and explanations._

_"…this isn't about what I want, but…" he paused again._

_"Is there another girl back home?"_

_"NO! It's only you, Mona."_

_"So it's because you will leave in a few days?"_

_Wide-eyed and pale Prosper looked unseeing ahead at the opposite wall. He ran a hand over his face.  
_

_"Oh God!"_

_Could he risk to tell her the truth? And if yes, to what extent? But she deserved the truth! He couldn't keep up with this charade any longer. It had long stopped being a game for him. A familiar face popped into his head – Scipio. Was that the reason, why he chose to reveal himself to him? Couldn't he stand the lies anymore?_

_"I'm so sorry, Simona, but I've done nothing but lie to you. I'm not what you think I am. I'm not a tourist. I'm…My name is Prosper Carstens, I'm 15 ¾ and my little brother Boniface is six and a third. Our father died five years ago in a random act of violence in New York. He used to be a pilot for Lufthansa and was out to celebrate the promotion of his co-captain in a little bar. They stepped out and didn't pay attention to their surroundings. He was shot from a car by a stray bullet in a gang war. Our mother used to be an illustrator for children's books. She died four months ago from cancer. After her funeral we got separated and Bo had to go with aunt Esther and uncle Max. Me, they put into an orphanage. Aunt Esther wants a little doll she can dress up in fancy clothes and that acts like a little grown-up instead of a child. Bo hates her. He begged me not to leave him alone with them. That we belonged together. So about five weeks ago we ran away to Venice because Mom loved the city. She always talked about moving down here. But then she got sick, too sick to be cured in time…." His voice faltered._

_"The night we came to Venice, Bo had developped a nasty cough and we were found by the Thief Lord. He took us in and gave Bo medicine. We live there now with other kids he's picked up from the streets…I've become a street kid, Simona. One of those your mother surely warned you off! It's your choice, if you want me to go now and never return…or allow me to stay."_

_Simona was speechless. She had always overlooked these kids, changed even the side of the canal, believing they were up to no good. And now she had met one, one who was kind and gentle, fun to be with, smart and witty and terribly cute to boot._

_"Are you a thief?"_

_"No, I'd never do that. At least that's what I'd like to think. But if there was no other choice to provide for Bo, then I'd steal and beg. But we don't have to do it. Our leader steals for us. I "just" sell the loot to a fence."_

_"Are you hungry?"_

_Prosper smiled tenderly. Even now Simona showed her gentle and caring heart._

_"No, I'm not. Thanks to the Thief Lord and my talent to sell things, there's always enough food on the table. We have it warm and dry in our lair. Clothes, too. We couldn't have it any better under the circumstances."_

_He stood up feeling relieved._

_"I'm so sorry to have lied to you all these days, but I wanted to live a normal life, even if it was only for a few precious moments with you. I so wanted to pretent that I really was just a tourist and that mom and dad were still with us…. I'm going now. As I said, it's entirely your choice. Think carefully, Mona. I'll be waiting for you in two days at the fountain on Campo di San Marco at half past two in the afternoon."_

_He crouched down again._

_"Whatever you decide…Please don't tell your mom or Victor about us. Bo's still wanted by the police, that is Aunt Esther. And then…I've savoured every minute with you and I think you're the most wonderful girl in the world."_

_Blushing he stood up and with a last glance at the shocked girl he left the house heavy hearted. He knew he had done the right thing, but why did it feel so wrong? What if he had destroyed everything?  
_

Was this why they hadn't seen Scipio all these nights? Had he wanted to give him time to think, too? Or couldn't he get out of the house? Or had he been just careless, when Prop had followed him? What if he had never intended to let Prosper follow him? And now that he knew the time was up for him, he hid behind golden walls? Was he just a coward who couldn't face the consequences of his actions?

"Prop, look at my "h's". Are they okay?" Bo pulled his brother out of his dark thoughts.

Prosper looked down onto the paper.

"They're great, but they don't seem to want to be there on the paper. Look, all of a sudden they're all over it."

"Yeah, they're horses and they've jumped all over the fence." Bo giggled.

"So how about you catch them and try to hold them within the fence? Here, line them all up against this line and from there they can whinny when you walk along the fence to say hello to them." Prop encouraged him.

"Okay."

With a sly smile Bo bent over again and wrote his "h's" on the line as he had done before. His mission to cheer Prop up had been accomplished.

Two days later Bo played with the pigeons on Campo di San Marco and Prop nerveously kept glancing at this watch every few seconds. Too slowly the fingers crept forward. When it was eventually ten to three Prop sighed deeply, stood up and called for Bo. It was time to go home. Simona wouldn't come after all. She had made her choice. His lovesickness doubled, leaving him with a broken heart and a queasy stomach.

Taking Bo by the hand, he heard a voice calling out to him. He turned around just in time to catch Simona who was running at full speed into his arms and almost tackled him down if it hadn't been for the fountain in his back.

"Mona." whispered Prop longingly and laughed from sheer happiness. She had come!

"Prop." Mona panted back. "I was so afraid you'd already be gone and I wouldn't see you ever again. But I couldn't come any sooner. Mom decided to have a mother-daughter talk this afternoon…"

Prop didn't listened anymore and Simona fell silent. Instinctively they tightened their embrace and after an eternity of gazing into each others eyes, they leant towards each other ignoring the strange feeling of nervous anticipation. And just when their lips were about to meet for the first time Simona felt a tugging at her sleeve. She opened her eyes again, which she hadn't noticed closing before and pulled away slightly to look down.

A little boy stared at her intensely.

"Hello." she greeted him surprised.

"Hi." Blue eyes locked on hers as if to grasp the very essence of her soul.

"Are you Prop's girl?"

Simona and Prop smiled lovingly at each other and then down at him.

"Yes. I'm Simona. And you are?" she asked him although she perfectly guessed, who this little fellow was.

"I'm Boniface. I'm his brother."

Surprised Prosper raised his eyebrows. Never before Bo had identified himself by his full name. Simona extended her hand to greet him.

"Pleased to meet you, Boniface. I've already heard many stories about you." she replied earnestly. Prop bit the insides of his cheeks to keep himself from laughing. He couldn't believe it. Was Bo jealous?

"I've heard about you, too. Prop always goes out in the morning to meet you. Just not yesterday and today. He's been sad. But he's always happy, when he comes back from you. And that's good. Usually I cheer him up."

"Will you allow me to help you cheer him up and make him happy?"

Bo tilted his head to one side and seemed to mull over her words. When he had come to a final conclusion he smiled and nodded.

"Fine. You may call me Bo."

"And you may me call Mona."

Prop cleared his throat.

"Hello, sorry to disturb, but I think we've got unfinished business to attend, Mona. Bo, turn around."

"Why?"

"Because I see many pigeons over there who haven't been fed yet."

Bo giggled slyly.

"If you want to kiss Mona, why don't you say so? I'm not a little kid, you know!"

"Okay, Mr. Grownup, would you please turn around, to I can finally kiss Mona?"

"If you want me to…but I really don't see why I have to. I've seen lots of people kiss other people. On TV and so…"

His gaze began straying.

"Bo, just do it….And no, you can't go and play with the pigeons over there at the waterfront. If you fall in, I'm too busy to notice and you drown."

"FINE!" His neat little plan had been blighted by his big brother. He huffed and started to chase the birds closer to the fountain. Smiling Prop and Mona watched him for another moment to ensure no immediate harm would come to him and then turned to each other.

"He's quite the sneaky little fellow, your Bo." She smiled amused.

"Yeah, I fear the day he can outsmart me."

"So….where were we?"

"I think right about…here."

And then the bells of San Marco started to ring, but the two were too lost in each other to even hear them from afar.

_Now that Prosper has found happiness in Venice, we can swing the focus to our other favourite hero, who's decidedly not as happy as Prosper and Simona. Not even as annoyed as Bo for being outmanoeuvered. No, as a matter of fact, he's going to be quite mad!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_ Comments: I loosely plucked San Martino Military School from the highly talented Donna Leon's book "Uniform justice", snippets of songtexts belong solely to the artists and their music companies and the "Eduational Degree No. 24" is found on "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" by J.K. Rowling, pg. 389 of my copy._

While on Campo di San Marco a boy and a girl found their way to each other, Scipio slaved over an essay on Dante's _Comedia Divina_. Why Dante had been of the opinion that liars were greater sinners than thieves. But Scipio couldn't keep his thoughts focussed on the subject, which hit entirely too close to home for his taste. Instead his thoughts kept drifting across town to the Stella and what his friends were doing at the moment. More precisely what Prosper was doing this very moment. Pushing Dante aside Scipio stood up and let himself fall onto his bed like a stone and turned onto his back. His Siamese cat opened sleepy eyes to look at him reproachfully.

"Sorry, 'meda."

Looking up at the high ceiling decorated with stucco covered by a thin layer of gold, he started daydreaming again. He had taken an immense risk to let Prop follow him home, but he felt he could trust him with this knowledge. Scipio smiled. He felt almost giddy thinking about Prop, who had turned his world upside down in just a few short weeks. While the hero worshipping of the others did wonders to his self-esteem and self-confidence, with Prosper he felt he could have something unique and wonderful. Prop could be a true friend, an equal. Not someone's son chosen by his father to deepen his business connections, but someone Scipio chose for himself - a Best Friend for the first time of his life. Someone to share thoughts, dreams, hopes, problems and so much more with. Scipio dreamt of having swims in the laguna, races with his father's boat, tanning lazily in the summer sun, eating ice-cream, talking and laughing…how wonderful this would be. He sobered up. Tonight he would go finally to the Stella and talk to Prop, maybe also with the others. He was tired of being a hero, he wanted to be just Scipio.

A sharp knock broke into his dream world and his father stepped in. Shocked Scipio shot up from his bed. Andromeda arched her back and hissed angrily before she turned several times around herself to find a new comfortable position to fall asleep again. Scipio couldn't remember the last time his father had come to his room. Usually he was summoned into his father's study.

"What are you doing in the middle of the day laying around on your bed? Don't you have homework to do? How can you ever hope to attend San Martino, if you don't have top marks?"

Lorenzo Massimo let his gaze drift slowly through his son's room, taking everything in. One door of the wardrobe stood slightly ajar. A red shirt had been flung carelessly over the border. A pair of black trainers had been thrown into a corner. He frowned.

His excursive gaze found in another corner a set of dumb-bells, an opened sports bag and Scipio's fencing equipment. At least his epee had been placed carefully into its holder. Next to that stood a large rack with open shelfs. Lorenzo stepped closer and began to read the titles on the book's backs. An entire shelf Scipio had dedicated to Conan Doyle, Christie, Sawyers and Getz. An odd copy of _"To catch a Thief"_ was stuck in between. Where Scipio's fencing trophies should have found their proud place, if he had had any in the first place – at this the highly successful business man sighed deeply – a big glass cat sat decoratively. Lorenzo's finger carefully followed the fragile glass whiskers. A truly remarkable piece of old Venetian craftmanship. Master Guiseppe surely had created this piece of art. Besides the cat laid Scipio's own attempts at glass blowery, looking next to Master Guiseppe's perfection pitiful. He felt his son's eyes in his back, but it wasn't time to voice why he had chosen to come to his son's room yet. On the lowest shelf he found the books he had been expecting to find all the time – the biography of the great commander his son was named after – Scipio Africanus, saviour of Rome in one of her darkest hours. This book at least looked as if it had been opened once at a time. All others about famous commanders and battles through history had an untouched air. Placed there to be ignored and finally forgotten by their owner.

The sound system was on stand-by. Gripped by curiosity Lorenzo pushed a button. What kind of music did his son listen to?

"…we don't need no thought control…..

….all in all you're just another brick in the wall…."

He pressed 'stop'. Silence exploded in the room. Pink Floyd wasn't the manliest music to listen to, but it could be much more worse. His gaze fell next onto a haphazardly stacked pile of disc covers. He picked it up to inspect them closer. The empty cover of Pink Floyd's Greatest, AC/DC, Robbie Williams, Eros Ramazotti, Madonna….his perusal stopped. Madonna – involuntarily her voice popped into his head, bringing unwanted memories.

_"…like a virgin touched for the very first time…"_

_Back then he had just finished San Martino. Boy, he couldn't recall how much Grappa each of them had had that night to celebrate the freedom from order and discipline. And later they had filtered into the city from La Giudecca to find a virgin and had all ended up at 'Ornella's' where they…._

Lorenzo shut firmly the door to these memories. Sufficient to say he had been bleary-eyed and terribly hung over when a friend of his mother had stepped into the casa that afternoon bringing her niece from Milan. Otherwise he could never have fallen so quickly and so hard for Chris….Scipio's mother.

He continued to look through the CD's in his hands. Coldplay, Linkin Park, Jamie Cullen, George Michael's Greatest, Three Doors Down, Limp Bizkit, Sade – what earned a scrowl- and finally a cover with a parental warning sticker. Curious he put the CD onto the tray and let it slip in. He randomly selected a song and fast forwarded it.

"…so we'll do it doggie style…."

Resolutely Scipio's father put the CD back into its cover and put it into the pocket of his jacket. AC/DC and Sade – either his son was schizophrenic or he had a really wide range of taste in music. The other CD's he put back on the shelf, neatly stacked. His next target was the cluttered desk. The surface was covered by school books, note books, pens, pencils, a long ruler, more books and CD's, his school tie. Lorenzo Massimo bent over the opened book – Dante's _Comedia Divina._ He smiled inwardly. Still they relied on the old methods to torture their pupils to death with boredom. Randomly he opened one of the drawers to view its content. More paper, an opened package of chewing gum, some small change….He shut it and let his gaze linger on Scipio's school bag laying next to the desk on the parquet darkened by centuries. Half of the content had spilled out. He recognized a chemistry book and one on algebra.

Scipio seethed. He felt violated and exposed in a way he hadn't ever experienced before. What right did his father have to just rummage out his things, opening drawers, taking his possessions?_  
As if the Blood Hound Gang was THAT bad…at least compared to some other stuff that circulated among the others in school._  
And he had to bite hard on his tongue to hold in what he so desperately wanted to say like_"Sorry, I've just run out of drugs this morning, father."_ or_ "I don't have your misplaced copy of the latest Playboy, but if I were you I'd go and search Marcello's top right drawer of his desk, where your precious assistant keeps them…."_

But he knew he needed to keep his silence because the sweet snatch of triumph would follow long moments of suffering. Besides, he couldn't afford to behave any differently than before and endanger his friends lest his father didn't suspect anything unusual about him. And then his breath caught in his throat. His father had walked to the bedside table and picked up the downturned book. The book where he kept, carelessly as he knew now, his most precious possession between some pages – a picture strip with his friends and him made about a week ago in one of the old photo booths at the train station. Heaven alone knew how they had managed to squeeze all the six of them into that small booth, but they had and they had been making funny faces. And the dark haired boy making funny faces with them hadn't been the Thief Lord but Scipio. And when the strips had been pushed out by the booth it had come over him like a jolt from above and a yearning for real companionship had woken up in him so strong and powerful that it had dictated his thoughts and actions later that night. He forced himself to remain passive but he watched even more carefully his father's movements who had started reading.

_"By order of the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts_

_All student organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded._

_An organisation, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students._

_Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge)._

_No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor."_

Scipio suddenly found the need to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing. And he desperately tried to wipe the huge grin off his face and was successful by letting out a relieved but very quiet sigh, when his father put down the book again without browsing the other 950 pages. The incriminating evidence of his blatant disobedience against his father's wishes not to associate with the mere mortals remained undetected.

As undetected as the loose wood plank in the floor under which he hid all the things that were never ever to be found – his hook and rope to nocturnal freedom, the black Venetian bird mask and his diary. Well, it wasn't a diary as such, rather a notebook with literary outpours bearing witness of the deep depression of a younger Scipio Massimo – the long and detailed essays on suicide, the written contemplation on how to dispose youself in the most effective but least painful manner, the short but passionate torrents of hatred against his father and mother, lists of things he would need, if he ever found the courage or the need to run away and his documented fight against his father's convictions that he was indeed as worthless and unlovable as he was told almost daily by words or a mere glance. Shortly, his desperate attempts to stay in control of himself, his thinking, his feelings, his beliefs and convictions, his attempts to preserve a seed of the essence of Scipio Massimo with the hope that there may come a time, when he could be openly himself. The last entry dated back shortly before he had rescued Riccio, Hornet and Mosca. Now he didn't need the notebook any longer.

However, what didn't remain undetected squeezed in between bed and wall was another piece of evidence of his not always voluntary nocturnal activities – a dirty old rag. Scipio blushed crimson, but to his surprise his father left it alone and uncommented.

After a last sweeping glance over his son's room, only pausing at the sleeping cat Andromeda on the slightly rumpled bed and a mega-size poster of _"La Serenissima by night"_ and one of the _"Pirates of the Carribean"_ displaying two men poised for a fencing sequence, Lorenzo choose to reveal parts of the reason for his presence, but not before giving him a lecture on order.

"This room is a total mess! I don't pay Violetta to clean up after your sloppiness. I want you to clean it up before tonight. And finish your homework! I'm going to have guests this evening. The new bank director of UniCredit Veneto, Signor Venturi, will join us for dinner with his family. I expect of you that you're going to pay special attention to his daughter and act as a gentleman."

Defeated Scipio nodded. There went his plans to visit the Stella tonight and on top he'd have to babysit a spoilt rich brat and act as window-dressing to give the impression of a happy family.

"You can start right now by showing some enthusiasm. Sometimes you really make me wonder… When I was your age, I chased the girls of whole Venice. God, I can't wait for your uncle to come. Maybe he'll be able to turn you into a real boy! And this rubbish is confiscated until further notice." He patted his pocket.

Scipio hung his head lest his father didn't see the rage and fire in his eyes. How he wished he could be like Prosper and freeze his face so nobody could read the emotions running through him. When his father left his room Scipio finally relaxed and let himself fall back onto his bed again.

"Show a bit of enthusiasm…turn into a real boy." he mocked his father angrily. HA! If he were to start chasing after girls, his father would be the first to tell him not to go all testosterone and show some restraint. After all the Massimos were wolves, not dogs in heat!

Sighing deeply he returned to his desk. Procastination never got tasks done. He decided that Dante was right. Liars were worse than thieves. Thieves took only things. And things could be replaced. Liars took away trust. And to rebuilt trust and gain forgiveness was so much harder and sometimes impossible after betraying a friend. Because the betrayed lost not only the belief in the liar, but he lost parts of his innocence and belief in the basic goodness of mankind. Having found his angle he scribbled away hastily.

_In the next chapter we're going to have a look at Scip with his father's eyes and from the outside._


	7. Chapter 7

_Comments 1: Special thanks go to my biggest and apparently ONLY fan Joyfulangel for her steadfast R&R. Folks, be nice to her and help her commenting on my story, even if it's only to say she's not alone out there.  
_

**Chapter Seven**

_Comments 2:_ _In a father's not too happy eyes..._

Deeply worried Lorenzo Massimo sat down behind the old desk from where he reigned over the glass business and large parts of Venice's politics like so many before him and hopefully many more to come after him. In front of him laid his assistant's reports that required very careful thinking on his part. The future of several hundred workers and their families depended on him and his ability to make the right decisions. But he had no head for this now. Looking up he gazed at the portrays of some of the most significant members of the old Massimo family. They could trace the family tree back to the times of "Il Magnifico" Lorenzo Medici in Florence. And since then the family had produced six doges, four generals, two admirals of the Venetian fleet in former times and one great master of glas blowery who still influenced the craft up to date.

Indeed, they were of old blood. And was this the explanation for Scipio? If you over-bred your animals, they turned eventually weak. Defects would creep into the genetic makeup. Was his son too highly bred? The image of him appeared in front of his inner eye. The soft still round child's face, soft brown eyes, soft velvety voice, soft skin, soft brown hair. And soft backbone! Lorenzo's face hardened.

Why didn't he ever fight back? Why did he always stand there, sometimes with blinking eyes and swallowing hard and just took his verbal beatings? Why was there never the look of defiance in his eyes? Why didn't he ever shout back, stating he hated him in an act of teenage rebellion or to leave him the hell alone? No, Scipio always remained silent and submissive, taking everything in, never giving anything back. Frustrated Lorenzo admitted to himself he'd almost be glad to catch Scipo smoke, drink, take drugs. Or if the police would bring him home someday saying he had committed a crime. At least that would show that there was life in the boy! How many more times would he need to push his son's nose into the dirt and humiliate him before he began to fight back?

His thoughts went back to the conversations he had had recently with Scipio's teachers and coaches. His son lacked seriously the will to succeed, to be the best. Or better, it wasn't as if he couldn't win, rather he had no desire to do so. Getting top marks or failing a test, beating his opponent in a fight or being beaten, it seemed to be all the same to him. According to them Scipio had all the potential, but it laid dormant. And his class teacher told he was one of the invisible pupils that were neither liked nor disliked by their peers - a ghost. And that seemed to be what Scipio wanted, to be left alone. But she hastened to explain that this wasn't so unusual for a boy his age. It was as if they withdrew and spun a coccoon around themselves to prepare for maturity. Very much like a caterpillar before it transformed into a beautiful butterfly. He recalled how he had refrained from answering, that he didn't want his son to become a butterfly but a man he could take pride in, if he couldn't in his son.

Lorenzo stood up and stepped to a window to look out onto the fondamenta and the canal. A lonely tourist boat chugged by slowly to give its passengers time to take pictures of the grand casas. Taking a sip from his glass of cool water, he let himself be transported back to happier times. How he had burst with pride, when his little baby boy had grabbed his finger and his heart for the first time, the first unstable steps he had taken into the world, his first words and what temper trantrums the little ram had been able to throw, when he didn't get what he wanted. And then it had all changed. When he and Christina became more and more estranged from each other, fighting more and more over Scipio, over their future and all in all too many trivial things. And one day their marriage had been too shattered to even think about having a second child and Christina found solace in her work as a doctor. And eventually she had left him with a five year old boy on his hands who couldn't understand why his mommy had gone. It still made his heart ache recalling how Scipio had cried every night for his mother until he hadn't been able to find another remedy but to send the boy away to his brother. And when he had come back, there was no crying anymore and the once loud and cheerful boy had turned quiet.

_Comments: Joyfulangel and others, get in the mood for the next chapter with Beethoven's Fifth. Destiny's on HER way to knock at his door...  
_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight **

_Comments: Hate at first sight... _

Unhappy and angry Annamaria Venturi braided her long and wavy dark brown hair. Her life sucked! She didn't want to braid her hair, preferring to let it hang loosely down her back, but her mother insisted on it. She was still mommy's little darling baby and she would continue to be so until Doomsday, when her life was destined to come to an abrupt end behind the walls of the nunnery of the Order of the Holy Margaret, where her sole purpose of existence would be to remove the Pope's breakfast tray and pick up his dirty clothes. Yes, that was her life. Born in Rome as the youngest of three to a workaholic father and a deeply religious mother, elementary school then convent school at the Vatican. Summer holidays were miserably spent with her mother in a convent somewhere between End-of-the-Universe and Hell for her to prepare for future life and for her mother to find spiritual regeneration. Two times per week ballet class for a good posture and jazz dance class for fun. And then….her life had taken a turn from bad to worse mere three weeks ago. When her father had come home grinning broadly and boasting how he had been able to convince the board of directors that he was alone the man to be sent to the Veneto to head the branch. They'd move within a week to Venice. 

Had her parents even bothered to ask her, if SHE wanted to move to hicktown? No! She was Roman after all. She loved the polluted, stinking, hustling and bustling metropolitan city with her loud and life-threatening traffic, scandals and affairs. And now she was stranded in a corny Hollywood backdrop and died slowly the death of boredom. No manic drivers, a at best mediocre dance academy, no interesting girl friends, with whom one could sneak out clandestinely at night to explore what wasn't meant to be observed by day. No adventure, no exitement to brighten her dull life. Only boats, water and tourists, water, tourists and boats, tourists, boats and water. The only thing she had come to appreciate was the convent school, which was more a common_ liceo_ for the upper class daughters of the fair city than a true religious school. Her mother would have a fit the moment she'd find out and this thought made her smile for the first time this evening.

For two weeks consequently her parents had made inaugural visits with the most influential families, business men and members of the Church, dragging her along to be presented to, inspected and evaluated by snobbish mothers, if she was fit to be a friend of their equally snobbish daughters, who truly thought they lived in the most remarkable town of whole Italy and pitied everyone who wasn't born and bred Venetian.

"Anmi, you ready?" Her mother knocked on her door.

"Coming in a minute."

She grimaced looking at her mirror image. Her mother would be delighted. She looked like a 12 year old content child instead of a 15 year old teenager hungry for life. She stuck her tongue out at herself and rolled her eyes.

And she kept rolling them inwardly the whole boat ride to the Fondamenta Bollani at her father's worries, if they made the right impression, repeating again and again that Dottor Massimo was one the most important people of the entire Veneto and that they couldn't afford to displease him in any way. He was the man to pave the way for him to successfully run the branch or to have him called back to Rome faster than he could even think about failure. And at her mother's worries that her skirt was too short by an inch and if the son of Dottor Massimo would try to do something inappropriate to her precious baby. Which only led to another quarral between her parents with her father stating with him being the son of Lorenzo Massimo he could have his pick at girls and was already probably seeing one. And with her mother answering that her father had no sympathy for a mother's concerns and that he only ever thought about business and never about the salvation of his family. Which earned her a biting remark that she was already doing it all the time and that they'd all end up in heaven anyways with all the runs to church, the charity work and bounties. The rest of the ride was spent in angry silence.

Which ended with her parents' admonitions to be nice to Scipio Massimo, but not too nice, and to try to please him, but to defend her honour, if the boy made any untoward moves at her. Annamaria's annoyance reached another level. It was pathetic to experience her parents' hysterics over a mere boy who was probably too blinded by his own shine and glory to notice other people around him. She'd met his kind before in Rome and here. Full of themselves, used to get what they wanted and when they wanted it, who firmly believed that the world was their playground to do as they pleased with no regard to any rules except the those of the rich boys' club. And if they were caught doing misdeeds, so what? Daddy would pull out his checkbook or the family lawyer would have a discrete chat with the judge and all would be forgotten. She felt her stomach acid rising and her father knocked on the grand door.

Scipio heard the steps and then he felt her hands settle on his shoulders. Her expensive perfume surrounded them in a delicate cloud.

"Want to have a look at them before they see you?"

He kept silent and she squeezed a bit.

"You don't want to do this, right?"

He ignored her.

"Hey, Mio, come on. Talk to me."

He tensed up. He absolutely hated to be called Mio. He studiously kept looking down from the balcony onto the best room.

"So you don't want to talk to me, heh? Save it all for the girl?"

He heard her amusement and clenched his teeth.

"Scipio, this is getting ridiculous! You're behaving like the little boy I met so long ago. When I called you Mio and you stomped with your little feet shouting your name was Ss-cipio."

Her voice turned playful.

"Mio…Mio…Mio, Mio, Mio, Mio..." She singsonged.

"Stop it, Marlena! Please."

He tried to disengage from her.

"Oh, it talks, so it lives! Now turn around to let me take a look at you. Rather I find the little speck of dust or the cat's hair on your jacket than your father, don't I?"

Finding he couldn't argue with that logic he turned around obediently to the good friend of the family and then of his father of many years for appraisal. It had taken him a long while to accept her and the role she played in his father's life after his mother had gone as convenient date when he needed a highly educated and beautiful escort or as occasional bed partner. It was an arrangement to their mutual satisfaction. And even if Scipio got along with Marlena well enough he never could bring himself to really trust her. Her eyes glid over Scipio's jacket and couldn't find it at fault, so she straightened his already perfect tie and ran her hand through his hairstyle to give it a more tousled and attractive look.

"There you go. All set to knock the girl off her feet…Oh, here they are…oh my, who died?….Probably the mother's fashion sense….What a lovely evening this is gonna be." Conspiratively she bent over to whisper in his ear.

"Think it's too late to make a bolt for the kitchen and hide behind Teresa?"

Amused against his will Scipio bent towards her in return to whisper.

"Impossible. The kitchen's a minefield. She's on a new diet."

"Darn! Now even the food won't be worth the company."

Annamaria looked up when she heard soft laughter from above. She felt humiliated. How dared the guy laugh at her? Stupid bastard! Was it her fault that she looked like a little girl in her own grandmother's clothes? She felt inadequate and decided to hate him on the spot for making her feel like this.

Her mother gave a little gasp, when she saw the for her piece of mind entirely too handsome son of the house for the first time. Alarmed she looked at her frowning daughter. She didn't know what had set Annamaria off, but there was something going on with her. She sensed the danger.

"What is it, Anmi, my poor little baby? You're so pale, sweet thing. Please excuse, Dottor Massimo, but Annamaria hasn't got used to the boat rides yet."

"But, Signora Venturi, don't mention it. Scipio, please take care of Signorina Annamaria."

Mildly interested Scipio took on the task of acting as a concerned gentleman.

"Do you feel dizzy or can you walk alone? How about you lay down in one of the guest rooms for a while until your stomach has settled again? I'll have Teresa prepare something light to eat, when you feel up to it."

Marlena decided to play devil's advocate. She liked the girl, even with braids and this mother!

"That's a good idea, Scipio. Why don't you keep her company until she's well again?"

_to be continued..._


	9. Chapter 9

_Comments 1:My last update for the Easter break. I'll be back in a week or so. _

**Chapter Nine **

_Comments2: She tempts the patience of a saint… and Scipio isn't one…_

"Thank you, that's very considerate, but I'm fine. It was just short spell."

"You sure? It always takes some time for non-Venetians to get used to the constant rides, but before you know it, you'll have as steady legs as the rest of us."

Scipio smiled encouragingly at her. Annamaria seethed inside. What an actor the guy was! If she hadn't heard him laughing at her, she would have bought his fake concern for her in a heartbeat. And what a snob! Once again she was exposed to the superior too-bad-you're-not-a-Venetian-attitude.

And so the evening started and a bottle of good wine and Teresa's excellent cooking cared for a successful and relaxed dinner, during which the party learnt of Annamaria's future as a nun, which earned a carefully disguised grin from Scipio, and Scipio's intentions to become an officer after having finished San Martino, which cast a deep frown onto Annamaria's face. She had already seen the cadets of this particular school with their decorative uniforms and cloaks roaming through the city and being a nuisance with their arrogance to all good and decent people.

Later the party retired to the saloon where then gentlemen drank 25 year old whiskey and smoked a fine cigar talking economics, Marlena tried to look interested in the fascinating life story of Saint Margaret, and Scipio tried to entertain Annamaria with talks about movies he had seen recently, music, he thought was worth listening to, books you simply had to read, Rome compared to Venice, the weather …. it was all in vain. Annamaria was firmly determined to give her host absolutely no chance to redeem himself in her eyes. His opinions she perceived as truths he tried to force upon her, his questions meant to trap her and make her look stupid.

Eventually his ordeal seemed to come to an end. At an advanced hour signora Venturi realised the time and motioned discretely for her husband that it was time to go home. Annamaria sighed relieved.

"Oh, please, signora Venturi, stay for a bit longer. You haven't told me yet what happened in 1467 when the Pope installed the Order at the Vatican… This is so fascinating. I've never had any idea!"

"But Annamaria….."

"Signora, I fully understand your concerns about tomorrow being a school day. Let Scipio escort your daughter home."

"This is a very gracious offer, signora, but I can find my way home alone. There's no need to for him to loose any sleep over me."

The teenagers' eyes met. One set of eyes showed contemptuousness, the other betrayed exasperation.

"I'm not sure…"

"Oh, don't you worry, signora Venturi. We learn to steer a boat before we learn to walk. Your daughter will be absolutely safe with him…Lorenzo, Scipio is going to accompany Annamaria home. It's become quite late and tomorrow they have school."

"What was it again? Oh, yes.. Scipio, she's in your care. Take the racing boat then and see her home….Like I've said, if we increase the annual ROI …."

"Certainly, father."

Scipio smiled satisfied. The faster he got rid of the brat, the better. Signora Venturi became worried. What if the boy tried to show off and they ended up against a wall or an abutment or crashed into another boat? Marlena frowned for a second as a new thought entered her mind then smiled with just a hint of maliceness.

"I'm wondering….perhaps you rather take the vaporetto. A ride with the _Angelina_ might be too upsetting for Annamaria's stomach. With the vaporetto it's going to be soft and nice and slow. Don't you agree, Mio?"

_Mio_ grimaced. And Marlena bent towards the uneasy signora and stage-whispered amused.

"You know, he doesn't like at all to be called by his baby name. They try their best to act all grown-up, but really they're still children, aren't they?"

Thoughtfully signora Venturi nodded, still…

"Now, be a good boy and take the signorina home."

Being steam-rolled signora Venturi couldn't help but surrender.

"Well, I guess…considering…Fine. But, Anmi, as soon as you're home you're going to phone me. And don't forget your evening prayers."

She was about getting up, when a soft hand on her shoulders pushed her back into the easy chair.

"No, just make yourself comfortable, signora. I'll see them to the door."

"Why are you doing this, Marlena?" Scipio whispered annoyed to her on the way downstairs.

"Because you deserve it, my dear."

She patted his cheek lightly.

"She's a nightmare! You know I won't forget this for a long while."

"Good! Because I've got a feeling that there comes the day you will give me a big hearty kiss and thank me for this."

"Don't count on it."

Marlena chuckled softly.

"We'll see."

The teenagers didn't speak on the ride. Scipio made his way slowly through larger canals, smaller canals and canals who were barely wide enough for the vaporetto to pass through. He breathed in the night and let it soothe him. Annamaria watched the houses passing by. Long ago she had lost any orientation but she trusted him to know the way. Besides, Venice was hardly big enough to get lost – not like Rome. With every turn into a new canal she hoped it was the one of her home. When the Canale La Giudecca opened up to them, she knew she was almost at home.

"Just let me out over at the stop. I'll take the _traghetto_ and you can go home."

She knew she was petulant but couldn't help it.

"Don't be ridiculous. Don't you know what happens here after dark?"

"I mean it. Let me out. Or…I'll scream."

Now he was intrigued.

"You do?"

"You don't believe me? Just you wait. I'll make them think you tried to force yourself on me."

"Somehow I don't think they're going to believe you."

"Oh yes? Because you're the son of the mighty Dottor Massimo?"

A smile tugged at his mouth.

"No, because you look like a ten year old and I don't play with little girls."

"You rather play with little boys then?…Oh, did I hit a nerve or why don't you answer?"

"I wouldn't be a gentleman, if I answered appropriately."

Annamaria was furious. She wanted to hit him, hurt him, do anything to make him loose his cool, like he had made her the very first moment she had met him.

"And we wouldn't want to disappoint daddy, would we?"

Scipio felt his own anger return. What was it with this girl? He had enough of this attitude! And, thank God, they had reached her home. She jumped out of the boat as if it was on fire. He jumped out after her to settle this for once and all.

"Look who's talking or is it an arrested development thing with you?"

"You bastard!"

She tried to slap him but froze when he suddenly smirked with a dangerous glint in his eyes. He stepped up close to her and took one of her thick braids in an almost caress into his hand….and tickled her nose with it.

"You know what? You've got spunk. I like that in girls."

Scipio chuckled and hopped back into the vaporetto.

"Now don't you want to go in? Or would you rather have me tuck you in, _little girl_?"

He winked with a lazy smile.

"You….you…_Mio_!" She shouted enraged.

"Sweet dreams, _Anmi_."

He made a shooing gesture for her to get into the house. She turned on her heels and entered her home in a huff. The nerve of that boy! Who did he think he was? A goddamned rich boy! She hated Venice and she hated everything about him! And if she never saw him again that would still be too soon!

Scipio chugged home with a sinking feeling in his stomach and angry at himself. If the brat squealed, he was in for some serious dressing down from his father. He shouldn't have let her get the better of him! Stupid girl!

_The next chapter will deal with two alpha-males... _


	10. Chapter 10

Running his hand nerveously through his hair Scipio took a deep breath and pulled the rope of the old bell at the Stella. What laid in store for him behind the door? Friends or foes? Getting cold feet he wished he had never allowed Prosper to follow him home. That none had learnt his dirty little secret. That nothing had changed. That he was still the mighty Thief Lord and they his trusted cohorts. But maybe the other didn't need to know, he realised suddenly. Perhaps Prosper would play along? It could be their secret. Just the two of them. Scipio snorted. Who was he trying to kid? Prosper would never consent to deceive his friends. When the door slowly opened by Riccio, Scipio held his breath. Riccio had always been some sort of a mood indicator for the whole group. If Prosper had disclosed Scipio's true identity, Riccio would certainly show him.

Relieved beyond belief Scipio saw a big joyous smile on his little friend's face.

"Scipio!"

And with growing confidence the Thief Lord followed him into the old movie theatre.

"Guys….it's Scipio! What did you bring this time? And how did you get it? Did you enter again through a skylight? Come on, let's hear the story."

He tried to coax his leader into story telling. And Scipio succumbed to temptation and started another fairy tale.

"….I ran and this grandpa really tried to follow me. I almost returned to give him back his old war medals lest he didn't get a heart attack. Really! What is it with the old these days?"

"SCIP…SCIP!"

Exited Bo jumped into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"Hello, little tiger."

Scipio smiled at him and relaxed. Everything was as usual. He was among friends, not foes. Mosca waved from his hammock, Hornet was somewhere around in the back. Riccio hung on his every word.

And then his gaze met Prosper's eyes, who stood with crossed arms in front of his chest in the middle of the little stage with a thunderous stare in his eyes, silent. Scipio swallowed hard but held his stare.

Prop couldn't believe it. The nerve of this guy! Scipio had to know he was found out, yet he carried on as usual in his stupid strutting manner, every inch the freaking Thief Lord! Who did he think he was? Despite of his own experience with Simona and his decision to give Scipio a chance the old rage rose its ugly head. This charade would come to an end. Here and now!

"Let him down!" commanded icily a stony faced Prosper.

Dumbstruck the rest of the gang watched how Scipio immediately complied. None of them had ever dared to speak to the Thief Lord in such a tone of voice.

"Prop?"

"Stay out of this, Bo!"

Prop jumped down and began to circle Scipio who turned slowly with him. Even if they didn't know the reason why, they recognized the shifting of power. Hornet hugged herself. Suddenly the temperature seemed to have dropped considerably. Mosca watched fascinated. It was as if two wild beasts circled each other looking for a weak spot in the defense of their opponent to strike. Riccio was outraged. How dared Prop to challenge the Thief Lord and why didn't Scipio deck him to show Prop his place?

"You only have to thank Simona that I don't kick your sorry ass out of the Stella."

"I doubt you could, Prosper." Came the arrogant and cool reply.

More circling followed.

"Im curious. Who's this Simona whom I supposedly owe my 'sorry ass'?"

"You know her. Short blonde hair. Lives at Fondamenta Bollani 235. Has difficulties lifting crates out of boats. Ring a bell?"

"Ah, the cute one…"

"Hands off!" hissed Prosper.

Almost mockingly Scipio put his hands up in a placating gesture.

"She's all yours."

"Now, for the sake of Simona, I'll give you one chance to explain and only one!"

And Scipio stood still.

"That's all I ask of you, Prop. To give me a chance." Came the soft and quiet reply.

Stunned Riccio gasped. What was going on here? Was Scipio begging? But he was the Thief Lord! He didn't beg! Never! He was in control! Always! But now it looked as if Prosper had all the power and all the control. The Thief Lord had surrendered. The mask fell from numb fingers.

For a moment Prop assessed Scipio then nodded slowly.

"Come upstairs."

He didn't even waited for Scipio to consent, but turned around and walked towards the little stair case in the back that led to the small roof platform. He knew Scipio would follow. Bo went after them until the sharp voice of his brother stopped him in his tracks.

"You stay below, Boniface. I mean it!"

"Scip?"

The boy turned around and ran his fingers through his hair. He tried to smile. But his eyes couldn't quite meet the ones of the small boy.

"Later, little tiger."

And while the boys upstairs stood at opposite ends of the roof balcony, leaning against the balustrade and looked at each other silently, the speculations downstairs ran amuck. What had Scipio done to make Prosper that mad?

Riccio sighed. The Fondamenta Bollani…the end of his own personal rainbow. How often had he walked by and asked himself in a mixture of longing but mostly envy and disgust how life was for those kids born with a silver spoon. Probably all roses and cakes. Hornet was confused and afraid. Who was this Simona? And what did she mean to Prop? Was he in love with her? How had he met her? And what if that…_girl_ loved Prosper back? Were they together? Then what about her, Hornet? Didn't she mean anything to him at all? But she had loved him first! A silent tear rolled down her cheek unnoticed by Mosca, who thought about the future. If there was a real break-up between Scip and Prop, who would he follow? He liked both of them equally. With Scip there was always adventure and exitement. And he had saved them, given them a home. But with Prosper had come stability and direction. Bo looked for his kittens to console himself. What if Prop decided he'd never like Scip again? Would they go somewhere else? But he didn't want to leave. He liked it here with the others and his kittens at the Stella. This was their home now. He felt very alone and longed for his mommy to take him into her loving arms.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven **

"Well, I'm listening…."

Scipio looked over the roofs of La Serenissima, his home town and turf, seeking comfort and gathering thoughts.

"My name is Scipio Massimo. I turn 16 in April. As all male first borns of the distinguished Massimo family, I'm to become an officer in the Italian army. Next year I'm going to attend San Martino Military School here in Venice."

A bit surprised by the entry Prosper frowned slightly but decided to follow Scipio to see where he would lead them.

"And do you want to?"

"Hell, no! But what I want has never been of much interest to my father. Family tradition must be observed. Since I can remember it's been always 'Scipio, why did you get only an A-? You need to work harder. Scipio, don't be so clumsy! A five year old can do better than you. Scipio, what sin can I have possibly committed to be burdened with you? Scipio, you're nothing but a disappointment.' Whatever I do, it's never good enough. All's always a mistake to him. I FREAKING HATE HIM!" It broke out of Scipio with loud and wild passion.

Prosper was taken aback…. _Scipio is a ticking time bomb waiting to explode…_

"So where do we fit in?"

Scipio turned his head to look with fiery eyes over his shoulder at the other boy.

"You're my life line, Prosper! Without you guys I'd probably go off the deep end."

He turned towards the city lights again.

"What about the Thief Lord? Is he a complete act then?"

"No, he allows me to be all that I am and want to be, but what I'm not allowed to be. Let's say he's my other half."

"Why the mask?"

"I started it wearing some time ago. I didn't want to be recognized walking on the roofs. Besides, behind the mask I can be anyone I want and not just the unloved son of Dottor Massimo….You might not fully understand this, but I really envy you. I think it's far better to have no parents at all than mine."

"Scip…."

Prosper's heart ached listening to Scipio's bitter loneliness and he forgave him for everything. He stepped up to him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. He felt the vibrant tension under his hand.

"What about your mother? Do you see her often?"

"Once or twice a year when she comes to arrange her affairs and raise some funds."

"But that's good, isn't it?"

"Is it? We're practically strangers. Last time it ended all in a shouting match. I got so angry. She arrives and expects me to be all joy and laughter and play happy family. Anyway, someday I started to observe the street kids from the roofs, thinking about what life must be for them. And one crazy evening I saw from above how Benito Scarface had cornered Mosca and Hornet to take away their haul. And I don't know what the hell came over me, but I jumped down behind him and challenged him to try someone his size." Scipio chuckled quietly.

"And I kicked his arse hard and good. Strangely I didn't feel any fear. Perhaps it was one of these 'I've got nothing to loose' moments. Before I knocked the stuffing out of him for good, he gave me a right hook that I thought I'd lost a tooth, but I didn't and I wore that bruise like a freaking medal of honor. And do you know why?"

Since he had his back turned to Prosper he didn't see him shrug.

"Because for the first time someone looked at me with respect, admiration and trust. I felt like Robbie Williams in front of 40,000 screaming fans."

Prosper chuckled and Scipio chimed in.

"Okay, maybe not like Robbie Williams, but never as good as this before. I think I felt…loved."

Scipio admitted almost inaudibly and embarrassed.

"When Benito's people asked who I was, it was so easy to say I'm the Thief Lord and that this was my turf and my people and Scarface would better get lost. And so it started. Later I picked up Riccio and when summer turned into winter I found the old Stella for them to crash. My father owns it."

"Didn't he ask where you got the bruise?"

"Yes, and that was actually the fun part. I told him I tripped during fencing. He shouted at me for being even too clumsy to walk. Let him think whatever he wants. He can't hurt me anymore."

Suddenly Scipio burst out laughing.

"These days he even questions my sexual orientation. Him already thinking I'm a wimp it's not a step too far out in his line of reasoning."

Prop raised an eyebrow and leant with his hips against the balustrade to be able to look fully at Scipio.

"How come?"

"Just because I lacked a certain enthusiasm to babysit the daughter of his new business friend from UniCredit yesterday evening. Originally I wanted to come by but then he dumped on me that girl."

"And?" A smile tugged at Prop's mouth. "Any cute?"

Scipio shrugged.

"Well, she's….somehow…..no, that's not it….Ahm….she's…I don't know what she is."

"She's at least a girl that stuns the mighty Thief Lord into silence."

Scipio growled.

"Very funny! She's…she's a walking contradiction. She's the very image of sweet innocence with her little girl braids and yet…she breathes fire. By the end of the evening I was close to murder and she tried to slap me."

"Well, you've certainly got some sparks flying there, eh?"

"Don't you start, too! Rather tell me about you and Simona. How come?" he asked playfully and nudged him.

And a blushing Prop started to tell their story, leaving out a fact here and there. Some things were private after all.

"Wow!"

"Yeah, wow!" Prosper agreed softly with a huge smile before he sobered.

"Scip, why did you let me follow you? Assuming you purposely lured me to your home."

Scipio sighed deeply and looked into the night sky.

"I've become greedy. It's…not enough for me anymore to be the Thief Lord. I've become tired of being a pop star. I want…more. And I want it with you, Prop."

Involuntarily Prosper increased the gap between them and wariness coloured his voice.

"What do you mean?"

Scipio turned fully to him.

"I want to be your friend. And I want you to be mine. I want us to be best friends. Equals. Can you do this? Will you be my best friend?"

A smile tugged at the corners of the other boy's mouth that blossomed into booming laughter. He couldn't help it.

"I'm so glad to amuse you."

Scipio commented immediately on the defense. He tightly gripped the balustrade.

"I think I just got proposed to! Yes, Scip love, I will be your best friend. Want to seal it with a kiss?"

A happy and also amused smile lightened up the Thief Lord's face. He relaxed immediately.

"Great! And thanks, but no thanks. But if you want we can cut the insides of our hands and become blood brothers." He joked.

"No thanks. I think we're both too old to play cowboys and indians. Where do we go from here? Will you tell the others?"

"Guess I have to."

Prop nodded.

"It won't be easy. A god decents from the Olymp."

"But you will be there with me?"

"That's what best friends are for."

"Prop? Do you really understand or are you still angry with me?"

"I do understand, Scip. And I'm not angry anymore."

"All's forgiven?"

"All's forgiven. Sure you don't want a kiss?"

Prosper puckered exageratedly his lips and leant dramatically towards Scip.

"Get the hell away from me!"

The boys shared a good naturedly laugh and their friendship was firmly established on new and so much better terms. Prop stood back and watched his friend run a hand through his hair as it was his custom then take a deep breath and expell it slowly.

"Come on, Prop. Let's get over with it."

Resolutely he opened the emergency door exit door and entered again the cinema, not as Dottor Massimo's son nor as the Thief Lord – but as Scipio.

_Comment: In the next chapter we're going to make a leap in time about a few weeks. Yep, it's getting spring...peak season for damsels in distress, noble knights and moonlit nights that hide dark shadows...  
_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 **

Ida Spavento heard the entrance door fall shut loudly behind her daughter and watched from a window above her departure into the streets of Venice that was cut short as a teenage boy clad in jeans trousers and a dark blue t-shirt with a jeans jacket flung carelessly over his shoulder turned around to greet her. They exchanged some words and together they walked down the Fondamenta. She sighed frowning.

"What's wrong, Ida?"

Viktor Getz looked up from his latest notes. He had manoeuvred his main character Commissario Donario into quite a situation, facing down alone the vicious boss of the drug smuggler ring because he had forgotten to call for back-up. And now Viktor was a bit stuck on how he could help his hero to survive. He had pondered, if he should rewrite the last two chapters. But then, there was his publisher's deadline to meet and they were a bit behind schedule anyway.

"It's Simona. She has changed these last weeks, maybe months. You've noticed this sparkle in her eyes, too? And she seemed to have matured a bit. And now she's gone almost every late afternoon and she doesn't tell where she's going. And if she tells…Viktor, she lied to me! I met Carina's mother the other day. She says, she hasn't seen Mona in weeks!! Where does she go? And who's that boy?"

"What boy?"

"The boy she met just now. I don't know what I should make of him. Imagine, he's wearing a black bird mask. Now tell me, what kind of guy wears a mask when's not carnival season?"

Viktor smiled amused.

"I wouldn't worry too much. It's all hormones, Ida. When I was a teenage boy about sixteen or seventeen I used to wear false beards until the itching became too much to bear in summer to make myself look older. So I started to grow my hair, put on John Lennon glasses, wear a Che Guevara cap and declared myself a communist."

He shook his head over the antics of his younger self.

"It's just a phase. Probably there is a perfectly normal teenage under that mask who just seeks a bit of adventure, making himself look interesting with that mask. You know to impress the girls…."

He winked and Ida smiled.

"Still…what if she hooks up with the wrong crowd?"

"She won't. Ida, I've watched her grow up for about seven or eight years now. You're a wonderful mother. You installed in her the difference between right and wrong and where the limits are. Maybe now the time has come to trust her and just let her go. Let the little bird spread her wings and fly."

"And what if she crashes?"

"Then she crashes. She will pick herself up again and try once more. And I know she won't be alone in her attempts. I wouldn't be surprised, if there was a boy behind the sparkle in her eyes. Oh, the drama of first love. All's new and exiting. One day you soar above the skies, the next you want to die."

Ida's eyes started sparkling, recalling her first love. Funny, how she still remembered him after all these years. She nodded slowly, but then frowned.

"What if….Viktor, these kids aren't like how we used to be when we were their age. They're….less child-like."

"Oh, Ida, come on. You know these first loves are always puppy love. What will they do? It's more about spending their time together, holding hands and exchanging a kiss once in a while than anything. And in a few weeks time it's all over. We better stockpile tissues to retain the flood of tears when the time has come. Let her have her sweet little secret. Or did _you_ tell your mother?"

Ida tried to stifle her smile.

"That's a low blow, Viktor, and you know it!"

"Yes. Still that makes me no less right."

Ida nodded and walked back to the desk.

"I'll give her a bit more time. But I will learn the truth eventually."

"I suggest we concentrate on Donario's problem first."

"Rewrite the last chapters, Viktor. Donario wouldn't be so reckless to just confront Melperoni on his own."

"I was afraid you'd say it ,too. I think we're in again for some all-nighters."

"Oh, the perks of working with you…."

They smiled fondly at each other and set to work.

Mona and Scip had picked up Prosper at the star lair and walked now leisurely towards the Gardini Pubblici to join the annual quarter festivities in the Southern part of the island. If Scipio occasionally felt like playing the gooseberry, he never let it on and never complained. Prosper and Mona didn't flaunt their togetherness despite of being very happy with each other and to see their soft smiles and the exchange of glances laden with secret meanings was most of the time enough for him for the time being to make him feel happy for them.

In fact, walking along with them he felt overall quite happy and satisfied with his life. He had just celebrated his 16th birthday a week ago and as a surprise his mother had come. Long ago Marlena had started to correspond with her old friend to prod and pester her into leaving the sick and hopeless to come to his special day and make amends. Contrary to all expectations it had turned out to be a wonderful day. For the first time in his life his mother hadn't looked at him and seen a four year old boy, but a 16 year old young man. It might have helped that he had grown over the last year and was now able to look down on his mother to his immense satisfaction. And considering that Prop's voice still shook from time to time when he mentioned his mom, Scipio began to realise that, even if his mother and his relationship with her were far from being perfect, he should be so lucky to have one. Besides, not only her view of him had changed drastically, but he began to see her in a new light as well. She wasn't any longer just the mother who had so carelessly abandoned him at a very tender age but also a woman that he began to see at eye-level.

They had met in a park and sitting on a blanket under an old tree having a picnic, they had talked for hours about guilt and forgiveness, about his parents' marriage before he had been born and the time that had eventually led to a divorce and he had dried her tears, when she had cried over lost years. How she had fallen in love with a young and wild Lorenzo Massimo. How she had begun her medicine study at university and her life-long desire to make a difference. How they had married eventually, had him and how both of them had been bogged down by heavy study workload. How she later had become disillusioned by the Italian health care system with its money intended for new medical devices, medicines and general modernisation disappearing into obscure channels and he weighed down by the huge responsibility to take over an old company that had been ill-prepared for globalisation and lead it into a new era. Eventually their marriage had failed under the pressure.

She had asked him, if he was happy, if he was still interested in fencing, if he had many and good friends and if he had a girlfriend yet. He had asked about her work and her life. Had she friends, had she found a new love and how she managed to witness so much suffering and injustice and still carry on. Scipio thought about how for the first time they had really listened to each other and understood. He only regretted that he hadn't been able to talk about his gang. He hadn't dared it. And later that evening they had gone out with his father and Marlena and even that had gone well enough with only a short tense moment when he had told his father that he wanted to donate his birthday money to the WWF and his gifts to the Merciful Sisters. And the video camera his grandmother had sent him as a birthday gift he had lent Mosca who had filmed his spectacular birthday party at the star lair with his friends a night later.

They had given him a simple t-shirt on which Prop had portrayed his bird mask on the chest and the flourish _Thief Lord_ on the back. He had had to swallow hard when they had given it to him. It had become his most favourite piece of clothing. He still felt awed and humbled by their gracious forgiveness and easy acceptance of his new role. If only Riccio...but he didn't want to think about it now.

Approaching the park they heard music somewhere echoed by houses in small _calles_. Coming closer they heard angry voices. The voice of a girl and the voices of several boys. Turning around a corner they saw a girl with her back against a wall and a few boys and a girl surrounding her in a semi-circle. When the circle opened for a moment, Scipio's breath was caught in his throat. He knew the girl, but never in his life would he have thought to meet her under these circumstances and clothed like this…this _beautiful_ and acting this stupid! She needed his help or it would get ugly for her. What was _he_ doing here anyway? _La Serenissima_ was Thief Lord territory! He straightened up and changed mentally from Scipio into Thief Lord.

"Once again you're poaching on my turf!"

The 17 year old teenager whipped around when he heard the clearing of someone's throat and a vitriolic smile showed bad teeth.

"Thief Lord…at your service." He mockingly bowed.

"My girlfriend and I'd very much appreciate it, if you were so kind to step back and let her take a deep breath of fresh air…NOW!"

The amicably conversational voice turned hard as steel leaving a threat hang in the air.

Prosper and Simona straightened up and two identical frowns appeared on their faces. What was going on here? Did Scipio try to save this girl from the Scarface's clutches by brazenly stating that she was his girlfriend? Benito was surrounded by his entire gang. This could get very quickly very nasty. The girl's face had changed from angry anxiousness to puzzlement. Who was playing the knight in shining armour?

"Anmi, I'm so sorry, we're a tad late. If I'd known you'd be molested by Mr. Personality here, I had stolen a racing boat to get here faster."

Anmi? Nobody called her by her pet name but her mother and none knew of it, except…but was this even possible? She compared the mental imagine of the irritating dark haired rich boy she had met weeks ago with the young man who had folded angrily his arms in front of his chest. Same height, same hair colour and same voice that was now enriched by the tone of icily superior arrogance.

"Mio…" she tested the water, trying to make it sound more annoyed than questioning.

She got her answer, when Scipio opened his arms. Deciding quickly that she was better off with the rich boy than the foul smelling brute, whom she could handle though – she reassured herself quickly – she side stepped him and let herself be enfolded by a pair of surprisingly strong yet gentle arms.

Prop and Mona exchanged confused glances. Since when had Scipio a girlfriend? And why didn't Prop know about it? Hadn't Scipio said there would be no secrets anymore between them? For a short moment Benito was undecided, if he should react physically to the latest insult of the Thief Lord, but then he decided against it. He recalled only too well the painful and humiliating meeting with the Thief Lord last year. There was no need repeating it in front of his entire gang. His reputation had been already tarnished enough when he had underestimated the younger boy and had got his arse kicked well. Besides, he could get back to him much less painful and non-violent. A mocking sneer graced his mouth.

"Who wants Ms Dolce & Gabbana anyways?"

"Yeah." A girl with bright pink streaks in her short hair and several piercings in her face spoke up. "Must be hard on you, Thief Lord, to keep Ms High Maintenance. Guess you're on the prowl every night to afford her."

Annamaria gave a small pitiful laugh.

"Do you really think he needs to pay me to be with him?"

The younger teens chuckled and the pink girl recoiled and…tried to strike again.

"So…what does it feel like to be with the second-in-command?" She addressed Simona.

Coolly Simona inspected her manicured finger nails before she looked up again disinterestedly.

"Second-in-command doesn't mean second best. Can we go now? This is getting boring and you promised us a good time."

"Certainly, ladies. Gentlemen, I believe we're finished here. Have a nice evening. And Scarface, stay away from what's mine!"

Holding Annamaria tightly to him Scipio walked away. Prosper and Simona followed quickly but without undue haste.

"Thief Lord…please give my regards to the little hedgehog."

Scip's steps faltered almost unnoticeably and without turning around he shot back.

"Tell him yourself, if you think it'll mean something to him. I'm not your messenger of love."

With small eyes Benito watched both couples disappear behind yet another corner. Anger and hate were written all over his face and his right hand twitched at his side.

"Who does he think he is?…._Thief Lord_." Benito spat.

"At least someone who apparently knows how to get food on the table, according to the little sidekick of his."

"And clothes."

"Medicine, when they're sick."

"A solid roof over their heads."

"I'd give my pet rat to know if he is as hot under that mask as I suspect. The voice alone…And his _tedesco_ is a cutie, too."

"Y'all better shut up if you know what's good for you!" Benito thundered. The gang cowered.

"Come on, boss. Forget about them. As soon as the little idiot blabs, we know where they hide and then we can turn the tables on them. Can't be long now before he's ready. And then _La Serenissima_, their lair and his contacts are yours. And he'll beg you to let him steal for you and the _Tedesco_ will sell the loot for you. Even the girls will be yours for the taking, if you should desire so."

"Damn right you are. So it shall be."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

As soon as they were out of sight and earshot, Annamaria shook off Scipio's arm, twirled around and ripped off his mask.

"Madonna, it's really you! What the hell was that supposed to mean just now? You know you really have got some nerve!"

"Me?! What about you? Roaming around dressed like this! Don't you know in what danger you've been?"

"Oh, pardon! I wasn't aware that I'd been cast for the part of the damsel in distress. And who made you the knight in shining armour, Mio?"

"Don't try to be funny here. Benito Scarface is _not _ someone you want to get entangled with."

"I could've handled him just fine!"

"Oh, yeah, I've seen how well you handled him just now! If we had come just a minute later, you'd have been damned lucky to get away with just your money taken from you, Anmi."

"Stop calling me that!"

"I'll stop, if you stop calling me Mio."

They glared at each other. Scip had folded again his arms in front of his chest. Annia had pressed her hands into her waist. His mask dangled from her fingers. They heard badly suppressed laughter.

"Woah, guys. Pipe it down, will you? The fireworks are supposed to start only later tonight. I'm Prosper and this is my girlfriend Simona. And I think I know who you are. Scip's told me about you… You were right, Scip, she's definitely not one to hold her tongue, but I'm not sure about the picture of innocence."

Prop was right though. Dressed in a white short jeans skirt and a tight pink t-shirt and her hair hanging loosely down her back she was just the opposite of the image she had presented when Scipio and Annamaria had met for the first time. Sunglasses were put fashionably into her hair and a small handbag hung conveniently from a thin leather strap.

Annamaria shook their outstretched hands. She couldn't stay mad with Prosper smiling openly and friendly and with Simona's perky wink.

"I'm Annamaria, but I prefer Annia."

She introduced herself pointedly and her head whipped around when from afar the music started again. Unconsciously her foot started tapping in tune.

"Well, it's been nice meeting you guys and thanks for the help. Maybe we'll see each other again some day."

"Hey, where do you think you're going? You can't leave now! Not a least without us. It's not safe for you. Benito's still around. He will go after you, if he gets the chance. A quick grab from behind, a scream that won't be heard because of all the noise… "

"I peg your pardon? I can handle the guy. Besides, what would he want from me? I'm nothing special. There are dozens of other girls around here. He'll find another victim quickly enough."

"You're mistaken, Annia. You've become the most special girl around here the moment Scip declared you his girlfriend."

"And? That means exactly what? What's so special about Scipio anyway? I'm sorry, but I don't understand the fuss at all. And I don't think I'm interested in your kindergarten games. And I'm certainly not keen on being his girlfriend."

"Thanks so much for the flowers. Don't think you'd be my first choice either." Scipio shot back.

"Okay, okay, into your corners, both of you! You know, if you state just one more time that you don't like each other, we might start to believe otherwise."

Two sets of eyes stopped glaring at each other to instead glare at her. Mona was more than amused. Finally she had met someone who wasn't in awe over Scipio or the Thief Lord. She still tended to be embarrassed when she thought back how she had met the Thief Lord.

_Prop had taken her home one evening not long after they had got together and her being introduced to the gang and the secret lair when they had walked under the colonnades on Piazza di San Marco. She had had almost a heart attack when the Thief Lord had appeared from behind one of the pillars like a ghost. He had asked her questions about herself and then declared her a good choice and welcomed her into the gang. She had felt like being blessed and had been very much in awe – until the moment his whole demeanour had changed. He had taken off his mask and grinned impishly at her to really greet her. And then she had learnt that he was still the arrogant and bold Thief Lord to the outside world, that was to the teenage underworld of Venice, but for his friends he was just Scipio and for her literally the boy next door she had come to like, maybe even love like a brother. _

"Watch out! One of Scarface's minions is lurking around back at the corner. You better put on the mask again, Scip."

Scipio nodded and heeded Prop's warning.

"This is getting ridiculous. Thief Lord, Scarface! These are really quite stupid names! You know I slowly start to believe you all make this up for whatever purpose. I'm off."

But she had only made one step when she was held back by Scip's fingers around her wrist.

"Look, we're being watched. I know I put you in an uncomfortable position here and I don't like it much either, but we're stuck with each other for a while. I suggest you start smiling at me like you mean it and let me hold your hand. We go to the festival, stay there for a bit of time and afterwards I'll explain things to you. And then we can part company and no harm's been done."

"No, you do the explaining first and then I _might_ be inclined to act like your girl for a short while, if there's a really good reason for."

"Listen, Annia, maybe you don't trust and like Scip and maybe you even have good reasons. But please believe at least me, when I say, it's not a ploy or a game. You've stumbled into something that's much larger than you think. Scip will explain later, but for the time being just act in love with him. If you like it or not, but for now you're the Thief Lord's girlfriend and that puts you into an exposed position. Trust me."

Annia searched Mona's eyes and found no deception there. Besides, wasn't this what she had been looking for? A bit of adventure? A bit of excitement and mystery? And even if she'd never admit it, she had been afraid of the other boy and his gang on her own and had been glad to be saved by the rich b… Scipio.

"Okay, I'll do it. Even if I don't know why."

Scipio flashed her a genuine smile which she found surprisingly easy to return. She was even more surprised, when he caressed her wrist with his thumb, where he had hold her a tiny bit too tight before he slipped his hand down to take hers. Suddenly she felt his fingers entwined with hers. And it was a most peculiar feeling, not unpleasant just strange and unfamiliar that gave her a small jolt through her body.

"Let's go and have some fun."

And fun they did have. They moved through the medieval fair with its countless booths to stop here to take a closer look and to walk over there to inspect the goods. Annamaria was fascinated. Despite of the crowd that rolled like an inert lava flow between the rows of booths, they had always enough room to walk. People looked at Scipio wearing his mask and they instantly moved out of the way. And he didn't even seem to notice this or the strange or amused looks he got. At first she had felt uncomfortable with the attention they drew to themselves. But Scipio's self-confidence was contagious. Soon enough she got used to the warm hand in hers and the pleasant feeling that radiated from their hands through her whole body. And she began to hold her head a bit higher, to walk more confidently, returned the glances and stares, and eventually she just ignored them or the cameras and _telefoninos_ like Scipio. Besides she was too busy to imitate Mona.

The other girl pulled her boyfriend from booth to booth and Prosper just let himself be dragged along, smiled docilely and waited patiently for her to be ready to move on. And so she pulled Scipio from here to over there or let herself be pulled when he wanted to take a closer look at something. And she found herself ready and willing to follow him. They inspected sunglasses, paste jewels, cheap real jewels, glass in every variety, clothes, hats, books, CDs, purses, leather goods of all kinds, shoes, Venetian lace, rummage and what not else. And the girls had fun putting on the most outrageous sunglasses or point at the most tacky rings or ear rings only to have the boys exaggeratedly avert their eyes or laugh themselves silly or they even gained from time to time a smile or a nod of appreciation and approval.

Just one thing dulled the pleasurable late afternoon – fear of being recognized by classmates. And eventually it happened. Scipio was inspecting the glassware of an independent glass blower with critical eyes when Annia looked up to shoo away a meddlesome insect and saw one of her classmates coming closer. Panicking Annia immediately buried her face in Scip's shoulder, lest she wouldn't be recognized.

"Classmate…my mother…can't be seen."

Annia whispered and her soft breath tickled him pleasantly, even if he was surprised by the sudden intimate closeness.

"Where?"

He whispered back and held her closer, immediately grasping the precarious situation. She complied and wrapped her arms around him.

"The girl wearing the red and blue dress over at the leather booth."

"…Okay, I see her. We just stand here and let her pass."

She wasn't sure, if she really felt his steady yet slightly accelerated heartbeat or if she imagined it. But she felt definitely his warmth and she smelled him and the scent the boys had tried at one of the booth at Mona's insistence. And she felt the gentle caressing of her hair and the soft massage of the back of her head. Annia tried to distract herself from the altogether too pleasant sensations by trying to revive her anger at him.

"You know this is _all your_ fault."

"Shh, I know. And I'm truly sorry. I…didn't think, when I saw you being molested by him. I just reacted. I didn't want you get hurt."

Annia let his soft murmur and the sensations he created flow through her. Was this how you felt when you were drunk? Slightly numb in the head, languorous, as if you were swimming in honey? Yet at the same time you felt your nerves vibrating and your heart pounding.

Scipio slowly lost the connection with ground control. What a great feeling this was to hold a girl seeking protection in his arms! To smell her hair and traces of an alluring body lotion when he bent down a bit to whisper in her ear and feel her gentle warmth where she touched him. Contented he pulled her just a fraction closer and sighed deeply. As for him they could stand here the next hour or so. And the reason why they held each other close slipped slowly from his mind busy sorting out the new sensations.

_To be continued…._


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Comments: Love is in the air... _

_Comment 2: The mask described below can be found at http://www.avantgarde-lifestyle.de/3016.JPG  
_

"Now, would you like to look at them? They sooo don't like each other! I swear I hear them purring." Mona chuckled.

Prosper stopped short and looked over to his friend and frowned.

"I wouldn't put too much into it. There's probably a good reason for it. Maybe she's seen someone she knows and tries to hide to avoid stupid questions."

"Prop, you know I love you dearly, but sometimes you have the worst sense of romance."

She pinched tenderly his nose and dropped her smile when he stared at her wide-eyed.

"Do you mean that?" He asked shyly.

"That you have sometimes the worst sense of romance? Sure." She tried to save herself.

"No, the other thing." He felt himself getting red.

"Prop, I…." Blushed crimson she chuckled embarrassed and let herself be pulled into his arms.

Prosper laid his forehead against hers to look deeply into her widened eyes.

"Please, say you mean it, Mona."

"What… if I did?" She whispered.

"Then I'd say I feel the same about you."

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

"Then say it, Prop. I've done it already."

"…I…love you." He whispered and pulled back a little bit to see the largest smile blossom on her face, which he full heartedly returned. Quickly he closed the gap again and shared with his girlfriend the most tender and gentlest kiss ever.

"MADONNA! Is this the grand central station for love trains? Listen up, you love birds.." the booth owner exclaimed outraged "…either you buy something or you get lost, understood?"

The four teenagers were shocked out of their daze and jumped apart. Usually not ones for public shows of affection Mona and Prop were mortified and moved away hastily. Scip raised his head to screen the scenery. The girl in blue and red was gone and Prop and Mona were already two booths down the lane.

"She's gone." He stated monotonely.

"Good."

"Let's catch up with the others."

"Okay."

Each lost to their own thoughts, they walked, silent. The easy comfortableness they had shared before was gone. She felt ashamed how she had reacted to his words and simple caresses. The words of her father came back to haunt her…_ He can have his pick of girls…_. Had she fallen into the trap of a womanizer? She looked at him from the side. There was no way to deny it any longer. Scipio was really quite handsome. And with the mask he gained somewhat of a mystery about him. The mask….if she had worn a mask she hadn't needed to press herself against him to hide. And she wouldn't feel like she began to like him more than what was good and proper for her. With a mask like his she'd never be recognised. With a mask she could roam the streets at night and nobody would ever know. With a mask….

"Scipio? Where did you get the mask?"

Scipio was pulled out of his self-reproaches. What if that girl had walked right over to them? Annia had trusted him to watch out for her. And he hadn't noticed anything beyond her. What was wrong with him? Even if she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, it didn't change the fact that he didn't like her. Besides, hadn't she made it plain on more than one occasion that she didn't like him either? So why did this thought made him somehow sad and angry when he should be relieved? Did he begin to _like_ her or were just his pride and ego hurt, that she wasn't impressed with him?

"Huh, sorry, what was that again?"

"I asked where you got the mask."

"From a little shop in Dorsoduro. Why?"

"I just thought….I should have one, too. Then nobody would recognise me and nobody would ever have to call us a pair of love birds again."

"I expect the shop owner has a booth somewhere around here, too. We go there and you can buy a mask." Scipio replied shortspoken and sped up with her to catch up with the others..

Was he angry with her? Why? She fell silent again. Not much later they perused dozens of Venetian masks. Annia had decided quickly on the columbine style but couldn't choose from the many beautiful ones. Finally she picked up a golden and pink one with an intricate golden pattern.

"Help me?"

"Sure."

She held up a large part of the top portion of her hair and Scipio stepped behind her to put on carefully the mask and tied the pink satin band behind her head. She lost her hold of her hair and it fell in thick tresses down and over the satin band. She looked into the little mirror the booth owner held up.

"What do you think?" she asked Scipio unconvinced.

"Looks good to me. Do you like it?"

"I don't know, if it's really comfortable."

"You'll get used to it quickly enough. And soon you won't even notice anymore that you're wearing the mask."

"Mona, what do you think? And where's Prop suddenly gone?" she turned to the girl that had joined them in the meantime.

Mona exchanged a glance with Scipio, who then looked around until he found his best friend in deep conversation with an old acquaintance of them – the old scoundrel Barbarossa to whom Prop sold the less valuable knickknacks of the Massimo household. He nodded to signal her that he had understood. Mona looked disturbed but tried to cover it up.

"Scip doesn't do you justice. You look great. Mysterious and sexy. Come on, let's test it on the dance floor and have the boys crawl over themselves to get to know you. You do like to dance, don't you? I've seen you tapping your foot from time to time."

Annia nodded enthusiastically. Finally she got to do what she had come for – to dance.

"But what about Scip and Prop?"

"Don't worry. They'll be busy for a while."

"Busy? With what?"

"For instance to buy us something to drink and to eat."

"But I'm not thirsty…"

"You will be when you come off the dance floor."

What was suddenly wrong with Mona? Why was she acting so cold and catty?

"Wait, Mona. I have to pay for the mask…"

"Scip can do it. Now come on."

Too stunned by the sudden mood swing of her new friend to put up more resistance Annia found herself on the dance floor. But as always the music melted away her troubles and confusion. Secure in the knowledge that nobody would recognise her she truly let go of herself and got lost in rhythm and melody. She closed her eyes and saw herself in front of hundreds of crazed people who followed her every move and applauded wildly. She played on their emotions, made them scream with a sensual move of her hip and shout with a flowing gesture of her arms. In her mind she became her great role model Gillian Norris. With the last beats fading away she opened her eyes again. She was surrounded by other dancers who had moved away to give her room and to admire her talent. Some even clapped their hands. She smiled brightly and felt powerful, full of energy and life. She looked around for Mona and found all three of them. Mona and Prop were enthused, but Scip was positively in a trance. He didn't even blink. Annia's smile became alluring, feeling the first foreshadows of the power of a woman. In her book the balance was even again.

"What's your name, beautiful?"

An older self-assured, good-looking teenage boy addressed her unexpectedly. He smiled at her. Still high on her emotions she played.

"I'm L'anonima."

"L'anonima, the nameless one. May I give you a name then, mysterious lady?"

"You may. And I'm afraid that's all you ever may."

She smiled flirtatiously and winked at him and then averted her eyes to look at another boy wearing a black mask who extended his hand in clear invitation to come off the dance floor.

"I see. So I'm too late?"

"For now, yes. But who knows about the future?"

"Will I ever see you again then, nameless beauty?"

"You will find me in every woman you meet."

She gave him a last smile and walking up to Scipio she blushed under her mask. What nonsense she had just talked. But who cared? She'd never see the boy again and if she did, he'd ever know it had been her. So she learnt that the mask meant not alone anonymity but also freedom – freedom to do as she pleased, freedom to express herself in every way she chose.

She laid her hand in Scipio's and turned another shade darker, when he led her hand to his mouth to kiss the inside of her wrist softly.

"What… are you doing, Scipio?"

"You're a marvellous dancer, Annia. And that's the Scarface over there. I'm just acting the part. Looks to me you mightily impressed him with your performance."

And putting his arm around her shoulder he pulled her close with a clear warning in his eyes to all other boys who wanted but didn't dare approach the mysterious dancer and sent one especially to Benito, in whose eyes the hungry interest was all too easy to read.

"By the way, I brought something to drink and eat. It's real coke. I hope that's okay with you. But we can get easily the bloodless stuff, if you'd rather have that. And here's a _panino_ with lettuce and tomato. "

"No, I'd rather have the explanation you still owe me. But thanks for the coke and the _panino_ anyway. And how much do I owe you for the mask?"

If Scipio could turn on and off the emotions, she could it, too. Scipio sighed.

"I can't persuade you to drop this, can I? How about we say we spent an afternoon together, had some good moments and leave it at this?"

"Forget it!"

"Okay, but not here, where we can be overheard. Let's head over to the Parco di Rimembranza. We should be relatively alone at this hour at least compared to this zoo."

"Oh yeah, you and me, and Prop and Mona and about a zillion other couples gazing at the sun set."

"Or at each other. At least they won't take interest in us." Scipio smirked.

_to be continued..._

_BTW: For those who don't know who Gillian Norris is, I recommand a visit at __"youtube" and look her up. And no, my Annia isn't that curly!  
__  
_


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Prop and Scip scanned the terrain. A few families, lots of tourists and many couples having a picnic or just a good bottle of wine and some bread and cheese. And some were just laying or sitting on blankets and waited for the sun to set and cast the city into red and gold light. Here and there laughter echoed over the lawn, flowers beds and between the trees.

"Here's a good spot."

Scipio announced. They were in the open with no trees nearby to hide behind and only a few couples sat a bit away and on top they would have a good view towards West.

"We'll be over there, Scip." Prop pointed to a small pile of rocks.

Scip nodded and laid his jacket down on the lawn for Annamaria to sit on it.

"Here. Try to make yourself comfortable. This might take a while."

He waited until Annia sat down, took off her mask and folded her legs neatly before he sat cross-legged on the ground opposite from her and took off his one, too.

"I'm listening…."

Scipio looked out to the water. It would be easy to lie and just say that he had had a run-in with Benito sometime ago which resulted in an enmity between the two of them. But didn't that mean to disown his friends? How could he do that when he was so proud of them? He realised to honour the special bond with this friends he'd have to take the risk and tell Annamaria the truth and hope she'd be decent enough to put aside her dislike for him for the sake of the others.

"Before we start you absolutely have to swear on the book and the lives of your family that you won't ever tell what you're going to hear now. Not even to a priest in confession… Don't grin! This is really serious, Annamaria. It's not about me, but the lives of my friends depend on your silence."

Sobered by Scipio's seriousness, she realised that there had to be more than what the eye could see.

"Okay, I promise, I won't tell a living soul. Is this about the boy you call Scarface?"

"Let's say it started more or less with him last summer when I became the Thief Lord."

"When you _became_ the Thief Lord? Thief as in _thief_? So it's not just a stupid name then, is it?"

Annamaria's mouth dropped open and her eyes became big. Scipio shook his head.

"No, it's not. I'm…"

"All saints! You are a _THIEF_! You're the head of a bunch of thieves! Is THAT it?"

She jumped up to leave immediately. He was indeed no better than all the other rich boys she had met in her life.

"Yes, but….Annamaria, please, sit down again and hear me out! It's not as bad as it sounds."

"What's on the up side then? You steal things that don't belong to you. Is it the thrill? Or do you think just because you're rich you're above the law and you get a kick out of it to mock it?"

"No, it's not like this. It's a very complicated story."

"What's so complicated about being a thief? Are Prosper and Simona thieves as well?"

"Will you shut your trap and just listen?" He felt exasperated and they hadn't even started yet.

From time to time Simona and Prosper looked over from their elevated spot on the rocks to their friend and the girl talking animatedly while the shadows got longer and longer and the sun set lower and lower.

"Do you think we can trust her?" Mona spoke up after long moments of loving silence and closeness with Prosper.

"I trust Scip to know what he does and how much he can afford to tell her."

"I hope you're right. Because if you are both wrong…Sometimes I'm so afraid that your relatives will find you and take you away from me….Especially now. I love you so much, Prop."

"That's not going to happen. I promise, love."

Tenderly he caressed her cheek with his thumb and did a cursory glance around them. When he was sure no one looked their way, he quickly kissed her softly.

"Still, you have so many problems…." Mona continued after she resurfaced.

"Shh….Scip and I will manage." He kissed her again.

"But sometimes he gets too cocky like earlier today. You can't afford to really anger the Scarface. He's the real criminal and he can harm you in ways you might not think of."

Worried the young couple looked down to their friend again. Scip and Annia felt their inquisitive gaze and looked back to the other couple. Annia gave a small wave to spite them. She didn't let herself get intimidated or at least she didn't let it show.

"They're looking over to us again. Why do I get the feeling they're ready to pounce on me, if I do as much as move my pinkie finger in the wrong direction?" She joked half-heartedly.

"They're worried. We look out for, protect and support each other. We're a family."

"Yes. Yes, it certainly looks that way to me. You've got some very special friends here."

"Just you wait until you meet the others. But be aware of Prop's little brother Bo. He's the true thief. The angel face steals your heart before you even sense the danger."

Scipio's smile was proud yet tender and full of warmth.

"You've got a beautiful smile. But I guess you usually don't have much to smile about."

Annia blushed furiously. What was she thinking and SAYING? Boys didn't have beautiful smiles. Against her better judgement and pride she felt drawn to Scipio Massimo. To his handsome looks, his courage and his wit. Even his arrogance was suddenly endearing to her, because she saw it now for what it was - an act. And she felt awed by the responsibility he had taken over for the five orphans. What an incredible and strong person was hiding behind the mask!

Scipio felt his heart skip a beat. He didn't know what to say. Would she try to slap him again, if he told her that she was to him the most beautiful girl he had ever seen? That he loved to get to know her better? That he had had an incredible wonderful afternoon despite everything and all? And that it was all thanks to her?

How he longed to find a girl like Prosper had found Mona to ease the burden and to help him leave all their problems behind for a short while. Besides, he felt a healthy dose of curiosity, if kissing a girl was really as mind-blowing as Prop had told him one late night on the roof balcony of the Stella where they usually went to talk. This afternoon had given him a taste of what it could be like to have such a girl. But when would he find the time to court a girl? Between eating, sleeping, school, homework and teaching Prop, his own lectures and lessons there was no time for a girlfriend. He sighed heavily and let him fall back onto his hands and closed his eyes for a moment.

Annamaria was alarmed. A relaxed Scipio showed all the signs of being dead tired. She leaned forward to him to touch his knee.

"What is it, Scip? Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Scipio chuckled tiredly.

"Let's see, what we have currently on our plate. Hornet needs new clothes and Riccio needs badly to go to the dentist. The annual bill for electricity and water is due in a few weeks and then my father will know that there is someone living in the old movie theatre. And we haven't found a new place to stay yet. And I'm slowly running out of things to steel at home. And we're afraid to loose Riccio to the dark side…"

"Dark side?"

"Sorry, recurring joke among us. Benito Scarface and his cohorts. Riccio learns slowly and he doesn't seem to get used to a more regulated life at the Stella with household duties and school. Besides I think he's too disappointed that I'm not really the great thief and hero he thought I was."

Annamaria nibbled for a moment on her lips. What she was about to do was utter madness and there would for sure come the day when she regretted this, but this would also be the greatest adventure of her life!

"The way I see it, you need badly help. My help precisely."

"What could you do?" Scip asked curiously.

"More than you think. First of all….if this Hornet's a bit smaller than I am….she can have my old clothes my mother hasn't given away to charity yet. They're a bit on the conservative side, but I think, if we bleach them and then dye and with a cut here and a new seam there…they might become fashionable enough. What is more, and that's our family secret, my elder sister lives in Florence with her boyfriend. My parents don't know about this. They think she still lives in a students' apartment on campus. Pietro has almost finished his studies to become a dentist. If you manage to get Riccio to Florence, I blackmail Annateresa and Pietro into fixing his teeth. And they're going to comply, because I know Resa is scared to be found out. My mother would raise the dead over this!"

Gradually Scipio had opened his eyes again and sat up straight. Quickly he searched her eyes.

"Are you serious?"

She nodded nervously. What if he didn't want her help?

"Yes. I could…also help with schooling Prop and the others. I'm a straight A-student. That way you might have more time to yourself, that is, if you want me to…"

Annia was taken aback by the intensity of the fire in the boy's eyes.

"If you're really sure…this would mean a serious commitment. This is nothing you decide on a whim…and you can't ever tell."

"I'm sure. I want to do something. I want to make a difference and live before I'm locked away behind cloister walls for the rest of my life."

"Oh Annia…" Scip grabbed her hands. "Come on, up with you."

Bursting with fresh energy he jumped up, then pulled her up and hugged her tightly until Annia thought either her rips would break or she'd suffocate. Over at the rocks Prop and Mona were alarmed to see their friends suddenly get up. Prosper grinned widely, feeling happy for his friend when he thought about the implications.

"Hey, I think our Scipio has found himself a girlfriend."

"Too bad, that they don't like each other." Stated Mona ironically before she sobered.

"Let's hope she fits into the group."

Simona hated herself for being such a worrywart.

"Give her a chance. You can still scratch her eyes out later."

She hissed and showed her claws playfully.

"Easy, tiger." Prop smiled. "You can show my your wild side later, when we're alone."

Mona giggled and snuggled closer to her boyfriend before a shout from Scipio to come down propelled them into action.

_to be continued...at the Stella_


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

From his elevated spot on the cinema's rooftop Riccio looked down when he heard faint laughter from below. Listening he recognised the voices of Mr. Wonderful Prosper and his girlfriend, then the one of the Lord of the Lies chimed up and the fourth belonged to an up to now unknown girl. Whoop-di-doo! Had Scipio found a girl? One of _them_ or one of their kind? Lost and afraid?

_They_ and us – before Prosper and Bo had arrived it had been a clearly defined separation. _They_ had been the adults and all the other kids with proper homes and families. Us were the lost and stranded, torn inside and out, shying away from them and only acknowledging_ them_ as prey or as a threat.

Riccio frowned and not alone because his left molar hurt terribly with its hole in it – large enough to feel it with his tongue. These days it felt more like _them_ and he. He still couldn't understand how easily the others had accepted the changes that had taken place recently. He couldn't understand how readily Mosca and Hornet had forgiven Scipio for his betrayal of them. Well, he hadn't forgiven him yet! And neither had he forgotten the evening when Scipio had come as usual and Prosper had taken over the leadership temporarily with Scipio putting his tail between his legs - so fast that watching it had made you dizzy - and following him up to the roof balcony where they had spent quite some time. And when they had come down again the world as he had known it had ceased to exist. From one moment to the other everything had changed.

Before there had been fun trips in a racing boat and a Thief Lord who protected them against the world and brought them the means to survive. No rules, no regulations – freedom! And Scipio had been a hero to all of them. Someone to believe in, to be proud of, to give an example to follow.

But now everything was bleak. First had come household duties. Prosper couldn't stand living in a mess. So their box had always been clean, the beds always made. Then it had come to cleaning up the table and the small "kitchen" and "bathroom". And involuntary smile replaced Riccio's frown for a moment, remembering how Scip had lost a bet to Hornet one evening and had consequently been forced to clean the toilets to pay his debt. What a spectacle that had been!

_How he had tried first to worm his way out of his debt by flirting and ensnaring her and his disappointment when he realised that the girl, though thoroughly enjoying his sudden attention to her, nevertheless insisted on him paying his debt. Riccio still wished Mosca had had Scipio's video camera by then to make these moments unforgettable. The moments of a disgusted and helpless Scipio who apparently really hadn't had a single clue how to do the cleaning – standing in the door of one of the stalls in one hand the bucket, in the other one the cleaning agent looking down onto the toilet as if it would jump at him any second now. And how Bo then had squeezed himself through Scipio's half-opened legs to stand next to the object in question and lead the older boy step by step through the motions while adopting Prosper's teaching manners and voice until the toilet shone again in white glory after much prodding and criticising. What fun they all had had on Scipio's expense. And how he grumbling accepted the ribbing and even had been able laugh at himself in the end. But at the end Scipio had ruined everything by his careless comment, after he had wiped dramatically his brow and received his praise and applause after his round of cleaning all toilets, that he'd never again take their maid's service for granted. And he, Riccio, had been reminded again of the fact, that Scipio wasn't their Thief Lord anymore but one of the spoilt rich kids, that he was one of _them _and didn't really belong to their kind._

Then washing clothes and ironing came. From their meagre income Prosper had bought an iron from the flea market and suddenly the clothes were clean and neatly folded into little stacks. And rules were installed and duties to share – all in the name of blending in with the crowd, of being normal, one of _them_.

And the home-schooling began. First with Bo learning how to read, write and do some simple math and then the others followed warily but steadily. Hornet with her major crush on Prosper had joined with more advanced stuff and even Mosca had eventually switched sides and slaved now hours a day over books. Because mom and dad had said it so. If Mosca wanted to be a famous and successful producer or boat builder , he had to know all the school stuff. Somehow suddenly everyone of them had a goal they were working towards to. An idea what they wanted to do with their lives when they would be grown-up. But he, Riccio, hadn't a goal in his life, which was currently a living hell. If he had wanted to live with rules and school stuff, he could have stayed in his orphanage in Turin. Thank you very much! He was a free spirit! Of what use was it to think about tomorrow or next week, month or year? What happened now was important, not what had been or would be. And what did he care about school? You never learnt what you needed from books. The street taught you everything you needed to know about life and survival.

When Riccio was really honest with himself, he felt ashamed. Mosca and Hornet learnt easily enough. And when they got stuck on a subject freaking perfect Prosper explained things over and over again to them until they got it and moved on in Scipio's old school books. And he? Somehow he couldn't get a handle on things. All letters seemed to jumble up when he tried to read or write. No, it was best to stay away from that school stuff.

He became thoughtful. Maybe it was best to even stay away from the whole lot of them. Benito Scarface had offered to let him join his gang, if he wanted. One day, when he had roamed the streets sullen and alone, he had been addressed by one of his mignons and feeling low, Riccio hadn't seen any harm in talking to him. At least someone had talked to him and was interested in him and his thoughts. And my, what fun they had that day! They had mocked the tourists, had stolen a few purses from easy prey like old people and eventually he had been introduced to the Scarface himself. And how flattered he had felt, when the boy had offered him a cigarette from his own pack – just as if Riccio was one of his gang. Okay, it had tasted awful and he had had to cough a lot, but the knowledge that neither Scipio nor Prosper would approve, made it bearable and even fun. And so it began. When he was with the Scarface, the old fun and freedom were back.

But Riccio wasn't stupid. Not long before Scarface had started to ask questions, Riccio instinctively wasn't comfortable answering like where their lair was, who the Thief Lord was behind the mask, why he wore it and such. He knew the price for joining Benito's gang was to sell out his friends. And also not long ago one of Benito's younger gang members had pulled him aside and hastily whispered that Riccio should better stay away from them. That he, the boy, would rather go with Riccio and join the Thief Lord than stay another day with the Scarface, but he was too afraid to leave. That Scarface was the proverbial wolf who had eaten chalk like in the fairly tale to flatter his way into Riccio's heart only to destroy him and the ones he held dearly.

And so Riccio sat on the roof of the Stella and weighed his options. Stay in a golden cage or leave to join a much harder but free life but by doing so condemn his friends? Or was there a third option in leaving Venice to find a new gang? Because the street taught you first thing that you couldn't survive all on your own.

"My Lady, my humble abode – The Stella. Our star lair. Strictly no grown-ups allowed."

Giggling. Riccio sighed disappointed. The girl was one of _them_. His kind wasn't so carefree and trusting to let their guard down and laugh with strangers.

The old bell rang. The door was opened and shut again. Riccio decided to stay on the rooftop. If the others wanted something from him, they knew where to find him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 **

_comment: I ran at full speed into some writer's block. But I think I'm recovering quite nicely. But judge yourself.  
_

"What are _you_ doing here? Didn't you want to watch the fireworks?" A surprised Mosca asked his friends closing the door behind them.

"Thanks, we already watched one." Mona winked at Scipio and Annia.

"Who's she?"

Mosca followed them through the small hallway into the main room. But before any of his friends could give him an answer the high voice of a small child interrupted.

"Prop….Scip…Mona!"

Amused Annia observed a boy hopping closer on one leg as fast as he could.

"BO! What are you doing up? Didn't I tell you to lie down and not run around?"

Prosper glared reproachfully at his little bother who just jumped into Scip's arms and safety. From there he talked back, not in the least intimidated by the scrowl in his big brother's face.

"I don't run around! I hop like a rabbit." He put his tongue out at Prop and swung with his left leg to show that the bandage around his foot was still snow white.

"See?" He challenged Prosper.

"Don't be Mr. Smart Ass with me, Bo. I told you to lie down. I explained to you what's going to happen, if the cut gets infected."

Annoyed at the lack of judgement and obedience of his brother he tried to pull Bo out of Scip's arms.

"No! I stay with Scip. You're a meanie." Bo clung to the dark haired teenager.

"Yes, Prop. You're a meanie." Affirmed Scip amused, imitating Bo's pouting. "Leave him be He's still a little child. He doesn't realise the meaning of consequences yet."

"Typical! Once more you take his side. And I'm again the bad guy. How can I raise him, when you counteract everything I say. You're not his…" Prop directed his frustration to Scip, hands in his waist.

"Prop, don't say it! Or I'll embarrass myself from laughing so hard." Interrupted Annia before Prop could really get into the swing of things.

"Huh?"

"You both begin to channel my parents. But I can't tell yet who's mom and who's dad."

"That's simple. Moms always smell nice. And Scip smells always nice. So Scip's the mom." Bo instructed her.

Scip grimaced while the other's had their laugh.

"But I don't want to be the mom. Why can't Prop be the mom? His hair is longer than mine."

"But that's not right. Prop's got a girl-friend. You can't be mom, when you have a girl-friend." Bo replied seriously.

"And supposedly I have a girl-friend, too? What then?" he asked Bo in the same serious manner.

The boy in his arms scratched his nose contemplatively and directed his attention to Annia.

"Are you Scip's girl-friend?"

All eyes turned to Annia who blushed a bit and opened slowly her mouth to answer.

"Hi, I'm Annia." She introduced herself by sidestepping his question. "And you're Bo. Scipio has told me a lot about you. He said you're a little master thief. Is that true? Do you steal hearts?"

Bo giggled flattered.

"Prop says you can't steal what's already been stolen. And if you're Scip's girl-friend, then your heart's already been stolen by Scip."

He scrunched his face, thinking hard.

"That means, I have two moms, you and Mona, two dads, Prop and Scip, four brothers, Prop, Scip, Mosca and Riccio and three sisters, Hornet, Mona and you. Boy, that's a lot, isn't it?"

Prop smiled tenderly at his little brother. It didn't matter how mad he sometimes got at Bo's silliness he could never stay angry for very long.

"Yeah, forget about the Waltons. Here comes the Star Family."

He ruffled his little brother's longish hair.

"Speaking of brothers and sons. Where is my wayward son Riccio? I have to relate a message to him from the Scarface. Annia, Hornet, I think you have something to discuss, while I'm having someone's butt." Scip only half-joked and gave Bo to Prop.

"He's upstairs on the roof. And yes, it's time that you talk to Riccio." Agreed Mosca.

"He's been very unhappy lately." Piped Hornet up for the first time.

"Well, he will be a lot unhappier, when I'm finished with him. There are limits and he crossed one."

Scip got angry remembering Scarface's biting remark.

"Do you really think this is the right way, Scipio? Talk to him, don't make reproaches." Prop had followed him and held him back at the bottom of the ladder leading up the roof platform.

"But he deserves…"

"Yes, he does, but that might estrange him even more from us. Think about what we discussed on our way here, when the girls were walking ahead of us. Can we really afford to loose Riccio?"

Scip sighed.

"No, you're right. Apart from him knowing way too much, he's foremost our friend. Maybe we should both talk to him?"

"Yes, but not together. I think he's got different issues with us. Besides, he might be immediately on the defence, when we crop up as an united force."

Scipio nodded and vanished.

The creaking of the old door to the roof platform/balcony told Riccio that he was in for some company.

"Mind, if I join you for a while?"

Riccio shrugged and looked away into the horizon.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? I like sitting on the roofs, looking into the sky or down onto the _campos_ and little piazzas, watching people. And then I think, how lucky I am to live here in Venice."

Riccio kept silent.

"We've met one of our old _friends_ today. Benito Scarface asked me to say hi to you, Riccio. Seems to me you know him quite well, hmh?"

Riccio pulled on a threat hanging loosely from his shirt.

"Riccio, please, talk to me. What's really wrong?"

"Who's she?"

"What?" Scipio was surprised and alarmed.

"The girl you brought. Who's she?"

"That's Annia. I've met her about two months ago."

"How?"

"How?" Scip was quite puzzled.

"How did you meet her?"

"She's the daughter of one of my father's business friends. They were invited and we met at the casa. Why?"

"Did you now? And then what's she doing here? Thought to show her the other side of life, impress her by showing how you care about a bunch of dirt poor orphans? Hope you didn't forget to tell her not to feed the animals and leave some money on the way out."

Scipio was taken aback. How sarcastic Riccio had become. There was silence for a while.

"Is that it? Is it because I'm born rich and you're not? But that's pure chance! It could easily be the other way round. You'd be rich and I might be an orphan. But that doesn't change who we are."

For the first time Riccio looked Scipio fully in the eyes.

"Then tell me, who are you?"

"You know me. I'm Scipio, your friend. Nothing has changed."

"Nothing has changed? God, you don't even see it, do you? You've changed. Everything has changed."

"No, Riccio. I haven't. I just let myself be who I really am."

"Great! Man, if that's who you really are, then I prefer to have the Thief Lord back. He was a lier, but at least he knew how to have a good time. Remember, Scipio, when we raced through the night in that boat? We did some crazy things and had always a good laugh. And now? It's always school. And if you do try to have some fun, it's always with Prop. You ignore us! Did one of you thought to ask me, if I wanted to come with you this afternoon?"

Scip bid his lips. There was some truth in Riccio's accusations.

"I'm truely sorry, Riccio. For many things. For deceiving you. For hurting you. For ignoring you….For disappointing you. But maybe you could try to see it for a moment from my point of view? Being rich doesn't automatically mean you're happy or that you have people who like you or love you. Before I've met you guys, I've been very lonely. I never had any true friends before. And now I have you. And I'm grateful for this. But with Prop, it's something very special. He's my absolute best friend. And I've never had a best friend before. Besides, we're a bit older than you. We talk about things that don't interest you yet. So, yes, I might have overdone it a bit and ignored you in the course. You know, Prosper is like your favourite chocolate cake – you simply can't get enough of it."

He winked and Riccio smiled for a moment.

"Listen, Riccio. I try to pay more attention to you. Would that be okay? And I could pluck Dad's racing boat again to have a joy ride with you all."

"You try to buy me."

"No, I try to make amends. And Annia isn't who you think she is. She's not here for a stroll through the zoo, but to help. If you want, Riccio, this is your decision alone, mind you, she'll help to have a dentist have a look at your teeth and fix what might need fixing. She's well connected and she offered. She's one of the good guys. How about you go down to meet her?…No? Well, if you change your mind you can still tell her. She will be around for some time and help teaching."

Scip stood up and turned around to leave Riccio alone.

"Scip? Won't you ask me about Benito Scarface?"

Scip turned back to Riccio.

"No, Riccio. You're my friend. I trust you."

And with these words the Thief Lord vanished down below from where a streak of light illuminated the roof top and laughter echoed faintly through the night before Scipio had closed the door behind him to leave him confused and brooding.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Approaching the others Scipio's self-satisfaction how he handled Riccio gave way to amusement as he took in the picture.

Sitting in Annia's lap little Bo told her a story, underlining it with lively gestures. Annia had a soft smile on her face as she followed attentively every twist and every facial expression and gesture.

Mona and Prop were busy doing whatever in the back, walking into the small "kitchen" to leave it again after a short time with a bucket and rags. Mosca was bent over his movie in scratched vision and Hornet tinkered with some old clothes.

A wave of love and tenderness threatened to overcome Scip. His family he thought proudly. They were worth the tiredness, the slowly dropping grades, the endless worries about their well-being, his thieveries, his father's contemptuousness, everything. They hadn't noticed him yet and so he breathed in the peace and harmony before a mischievous smile spread on his face. Stealthily he approached the enchanted Annia and Bo. Well, he had warned her after all.

"..and so they carried me home all the way." Bo finished his story of how he had stepped on a broken clam shell hidden in the sands of the world famous beach of Lido.

"All the way?"

"All the way. Prop and Scip are the strongest guys ever!"

Smiling tenderly Annia looked into Bo's bright shining eyes. Someone around here had a very bad case of hero worshipping. When she noticed someone took the chair next to her, she turned her hand and grinned welcoming.

"Hello, Superman."

"Hello back. Would you…"

"Hey, up with you!" Mona put her hands into her sides.

"Let Bo entertain our guest. You can help me with dinner while Prop's talking to Riccio."

Scip's eyes followed her outstretched arm and saw Prop climbing up the stairs. He groaned, but nevertheless stood up.

"What do you want me to do?"

"You can cut the vegetables. A master of fencing like you should be handy with knifes."

"That's all you need me for? To do the dirty work? I happen to be a very fine salad sauce maker I'll have you know!" He huffed mockingly.

"Oh, well, Mr. Chef, let's see then. The kitchen is this way." Mona bowed in grand gesture and flicked a towel at his behind to get him moving faster.

"Hey!" Scipio was a bit outraged.

"What? There are mouths to feed. So get a move on!"

"God, you're worse than my uncle!"

"I'll take it as compliment."

"It wasn't meant to be."

In retaliation Mona flicked again her towel at him and laughing and teasing each other they walked to the kitchen.

_To be continued...as the night isn't over yet - not by a long shot.  
_


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 **

Upstairs Prop was greeted by an unwilling "Go away, Prosper!" which he chose to ignore to settle things between him and Riccio.

"I said leave me alone!"

"No. I'd like to talk to you."

Riccio mumbled something under his breath and stood up to climb onto the roof to get away from the older boy.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that. Could you repeat what you said?"

Slowly Riccio turned around. For once he was on the same eye level as Prosper. He smiled for a fracture of a second at this pleasing fact and grimaced.

"I said … Bloody Nazi…" Triumphantly Riccio met Prosper's shocked big round eyes.

"What…?" Prosper croaked. "what…makes you say that?"

Prop couldn't believe it. What had he done to be insulted by Riccio in the worst way possible?

"Because you are one."

Riccio realised all of a sudden that he had the upper hand – for the first time ever.

"No, I'm not! How can you say something horrible like this?"

"Because it's the truth, Prosper Cars-ten-sen."

Riccio stretched the boy's German surname.

"Since you arrived you've done nothing but ordering us around. Put this away, clean that up. Do this, don't do that! Do your homework, don't go out looking like a dosser. You command and we have to obey! You master, we slaves."

Prosper's first instincts urged him to deny everything and to declare that Riccio had got it all wrong. The words at the tip of his tongue, he paused.

"But…"

"At a loss for words, _master_?"

"I…never…I don't…"

"And something else: I'm sick and tired of being your slave."

"I…I don't know what to say, Riccio. I never wanted to….I only wanted…Do the others think I'm a…I order them around too much, too?"

"Yes….Sometimes." Feeling suddenly sorry for Prosper, he tried to soften his harsh words.

"I didn't mean to, Riccio. Honestly. I just wanted…to have a home again."

"But the Stella is a home. It was a home before you came. And it was a mighty fine one."

"And now it's not anymore? At least for you?"

"No, it isn't."

"Why? It's a home for me. It's clean and dry, we have proper meals and clothes. We have school. What's wrong with having that?"

"Nothing….everything." Riccio sighed. "Look, it's not bad per se, but…just because it's your idea of a home, it doesn't mean it's ours, too." He rushed the words out.

"It's not? Isn't this what we all want?" Prosper was astonished.

"You know, it's amazing, Prosper. You can be so attuned to people's feelings but so blind to this. The Stella has become a boot camp. And you're a control freak. Look, what you do to Bo. You're even worse with him. He can't do a step without your permission. Where ever he turns, you're already there to tell him what to do. The leash's too tight. For him, for me, for all of us."

Prosper hung his head. Was Riccio right? Had he turned into a control freak? No, he decided after a moment. He did what he had to do for the sake of all of them. It was the right thing to do. Even if it meant to boss them around and make them hate him. He couldn't afford to ease up. To ease up…. The words echoed in his mind. …Ease up…..ease up….ease….up…. But how could he do this when there was their entire future at stake? And then he felt it again. The cold and hollow feeling that threatened sometimes in the night to suffocate him – fear. Fear not to be able to carry the weight of responsibility one second longer.

And all of a sudden the words of his sick mother made sense. She made him promise to always be there for Bo and asked for his forgiveness. Back then he had thought she meant to forgive her that she would leave them soon. That she had been such a chaotic mother. But now he understood that she meant much more. Had she somehow known with the strange clairvoyance of the dying what the fates had in store for the brothers? And he struggled with her and his forgiveness – so easy given months ago in his ignorance. His mother's seriousness and slow caress of his hand with weakened fingers when he had given her absolution and peace. And how she told him crying that she was sorry over and over again. And that she loved him and that she was so proud of her oldest.

Now, at this moment in time, he wasn't so sure, if he could forgive his mother for burdening him, for robbing him of his innocent childhood and making him grow up into a man before his time. He felt cheated and helpless.

"I promised her that I would look out for Bo."

"Your mother?"

Prop nodded.

"The afternoon Bo and I decided to run away, we…**I** didn't know what we would get into. All we knew was that Bo hated it to be with Aunt Esther and I that I had promised mom. So we could only run. I planned everything carefully and we were lucky. We made it to Venice. You know, when Scip found us, we sat on a crate with maybe 5 Euros in small change and I knew I had not the slightest idea what to do now. Lying awake in your bed it looks so easy. I'd fetch Bo, all the money I could get my hands on, go to the railway station and head for Venice. And there in the sunshine and the magic of the city, we would find a place to stay and live happily ever after. What did I really know?"

Prop chuckled bitterly. Riccio kept silent. He felt he shouldn't disturb Prop now.

"Nothing. And I realised it at this very moment, when Bo asked me, what we were supposed to do now and I had no answer for him. That I didn't know how to make his cold better, to get him something to eat and to drink. A safe place to sleep. And I had no answers. No answers…." Prop fell silent, reliving his helplessness and fear of that moment.

"And then Scip stepped out of the shadows like a saving angel and brought us here. And I felt hope again that we might make it after all. And I cling to that very hope. So I work hard to learn what Scip teaches me in order to be able to pass the final tests in one or two years along with all the others that aren't homeless street kids. That I can get a job that supports Bo and me and a small flat. That I can adopt him, when I'm old enough, so Aunt Esther can't ever get her hands on him. And that he can go to a proper school then. Learn something and go to university one day without any worries. Make something out of his life. Because the knowledge, what might happen to Bo, if I let go of that hope and control over our life now, frightens me more than anything. I can't let it happen that he will end up without any chance. Turn into a criminal, being constantly in and out of jail. I just CAN'T let that happen. Not to him, not to me, not to all of you. I just can't."

Prop felt exhausted and closed his eyes. There was a long silence on the roof top with faint noises of the city below and around them. After a while he heard Riccio stand up and felt the warmth of a hand on his shoulder for a second.

"Coming?" he asked at the door.

"In a moment." Prop replied almost inaudibly.

"You know, Prop, you're wrong. There is no chance for kids like us. But…" and Riccio smiled grimly "…if we're to go down, we better make it worth it. You know, give the fates a run for their money and fight them on every inch of the way into hell."

"Riccio?"

"What else? I'm hungry." He pretended to grouse lest it wouldn't get too emotional.

"Thanks. I'll try not to be so controlling anymore."

Riccio nodded and held open the door to warmth and laughter – to hope.

_To be continued…with Barbarossa causing trouble in paradise._


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Dinner had been fun, but now Mona felt kind of lost. Being on her own for the moment she watched the others, thinking hard. Hornet and Annia had hit it off immediately and directing her eyes up she could see them giggling and talking in Hornet's box. She wasn't surprised by this development. After all Annia wasn't the girlfriend of Hornet's not so secret love. Simona recalled how she had tried to make Prosper aware that Hornet harboured tender feelings for him, but he had just shrugged and told her she read too much into it. Besides he, Prosper, was with her and not Hornet and that was all there was to it. Back then she hadn't known if she should kiss Prop for his answer or slap. Riccio and little Bo were playing with Lisa and Tygger, flicking little paper balls at the kittens to watch them chase and pounce on them. Mosca wore his glasses and worked totally focussed on his career as the next Steven Spielberg as he diligently scratched picture by picture of that old movie reel.

And her boy and his best friend Scipio were doing the washing up as they had drawn the shortest straws. But she just couldn't shake loose the feeling that they had manipulated the game to be on their own for a moment. Craning her neck she watched them carefully. The boys worked slowly, almost absentmindedly and they talked with hushed voices, halting their household duty to concentrate on their discussion to pick up the task a short while later. From time to time one of them got a little bit louder and snippets of this deep discussion reached her ear to trouble her mind.

"…we CAN'T…"

"….better idea?"

"….our only chance…."

"…Barbarossa's going to arrange…"

Pained Mona closed her eyes. She had known it the moment she had seen the old man talking to Proper. This man brought doom to all of them. She could feel it in her very heart. And opening her eyes again she saw Prosper's expression turn from reluctant agreement to worried determination. He nodded and hung the wet towel onto the small rack. His movements were slow as if tired or heavy burdened. Scipio looked dead serious for a moment but brightened immediately as he saw Mona standing close to the "kitchen".

"Coming to fetch Prop to escort you back home, Mona?" he asked friendly enough.

Mona nodded silently and reached out for Prop's hand, that felt cold despite of having bathed it in hot dishwater only moments ago.

"I think I should take Annia home, too." Scipio flashed his true roguish smile at the couple in front of him and winked.

Despite her heavy heart Mona laughed and Prop winked back. Maybe it wasn't that bad? Maybe it had been just about money, which they had always in short supply? Or some other silly nothing? She wanted to believe it so badly, but still….

Scip passed them and stopped in the middle of the old movie theatre and put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. Lisa and Tygger were startled, hissed and ran up the stairs to hide. The humans whipped around and two heads appeared over the railing of Hornet's box. One face looked puzzled, one tried to look angry.

"I may be a bitch from time to time, Scipio Massimo, but I'm definitely not a dog that comes running when its master whistles!" Annia called down.

"Still it worked, didn't it? I called, you answered." Scipio grinned smugly.

Annia blushed crimson when the others snickered. She would get back at him, somehow.

"What do you want?"

Scip shoved his hands into his front pockets of his trousers and put his head into his neck to look up and his mood changed from teasing to caring.

"It's getting late and I just thought it's time for you to get home, too, like Mona, you know."

"So? And what's got it to do with you?" She arched her eyebrow.

"So I thought you might prefer not to walk alone."

"And?"

And Scipio learnt in an instant that even if he was looking up, you could feel like you were looking down into a deep, deep abyss. And usually free from vertigo, Scip suddenly felt light-headed. He could feel the abyss calling out to him, begging to come closer, to let himself fall. Taking a deep breath he jumped, feeling the eyes of his friends on him.

"And so I think I should take you home." He felt himself blush for whatever stupid reasons.

"Take me home. Like Prop takes Mona home?" She asked not to innocently.

Annia smiled. And it was an odd mixture of sheer smugness, tenderness and a good dose of I'm-so-getting-back-at-you-mista.

"Yes….I mean, NO!" Scip shouted quickly, when he realised Annia's veiled implications.

He pushed his hand through his hair, feeling hot. He heard snicker and giggling.

"Look, you're not familiar with the territory yet, so it's best, when I escort you for the time being. Are you coming or not?" He huffed.

"Oh. When you put it this way, I would be an ingrate not to take you up on your charming offer, wouldn't I? I'll come down."

Reaching the last steps, she held her hand out to Scipio to help her down as if she wore a gown with a long train that could trip her any second. Mona gave Scip a subtle shove towards Annia and Scipio rushed to recall his best manners. He offered her his hand and like a queen Annia took the last steps in graceful movements.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Scip held her back for a moment.

"You enjoyed that now, did you?" he whispered, half angry, half amused.

"As much as you did just earlier." She sparkled.

"So we're even?" He smiled.

"Even? I wasn't aware that we're in any kind of contest." She was all false innocence.

"We're not?" He was confused.

"You tell me." She held the power.

"Are you flirting with me, Annamaria?" He hoped.

"Why should I?" She played.

"You tell me." He turned the tables on her and led her to the others to say goodbye for the evening.

When the door had closed behind the couples, silence settled over the children like a blanket.

Mosca looked up from his work, removed his glasses and voiced the general opinion.

"Grownups!"

The two couples separated at San Marco. Mona and Prop headed North, Scip was about to lead Annia to the landing stages at the Canale La Giudecca, when she halted and tried to pull him into another direction back to the Parco di Remembranza.

"Hey, stop. This is not the way home, Annia." He pulled her back.

"Oh, come on. Don't be a bore! The night's just begun. I want to see the fireworks." She tugged at his arm.

"But what about your parents?" He stalled.

"Let's say, Dad's too firmly entrenched in the here and now and Mom's too focussed on the hereafter to notice that I'm not in my room."

"Huh?"

"Dad's poured over business statistics and Mom's at one church or another or meeting up with some old ladies to discuss the charity work that's sorely lacking in Venice. I reckon I've got time until midnight."

Scipio's wide grin started to match hers.

"Okay, let's have some fun!"

Unintentionally, but not unwelcome their hands found each other and laughing they began to run back to the festivities.

_**To be continued **_


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

While Scip and Annia with masks firmly in place lost themselves in the masses of visitors of the festivities joyous and eager to explore, Mona and Prop were lost in their own dark world. Watching Scip and Annia spare and find stumbling their way to each other, she had forgotten her worries for a short moment. But in the silence of their footsteps, the fear was back. She had to know. And yet – she almost felt asking would be like breaking a taboo. Somehow she knew, if she asked, nothing would ever be the same between her and Prop. She would pass the threshold to a world, she had previously only looked at from the outside and skirted along its edges. Would she find the courage? Knowing would burn her, but not knowing would torture her even more. Besides, she was no child anymore hiding under the bed from the bogey man. She would meet her fears and worries head on and do battle.

"Prosper, what did Barbarossa from you? Don't look so surprised. I saw you with him earlier."

Prop sighed. He didn't want her to know. He didn't want to see the disapproval her eyes and her disappointment in him, if she learnt, what they planned to do.

"Nothing."

Mona sucked in her breath. She felt as if someone had just punched into her stomach. Prosper had never lied to her before – at least that's what she had thought up to now. But now….if he lied to her now, how many times had he lied before?

"Don't lie to me! I can feel it. He wants something from you. What is it? What did you and Scip talk about in the kitchen?"

Prosper stopped and turned around to fully look at her under a street light.

"Mona, please. Leave it be. I told you, Scip and I will manage."

"He wants you to steal something for him, doesn't he? Prop, you HAVE to promise me, that you won't do what he wants."

Icy fear clamped her heart and made breathing almost impossible, when she saw Prosper's face becoming unreadable.

"Mona…"

"Prosper, PLEASE! Don't do it…What do you really know about breaking and entering? NOTHING! You will get caught! The both of you. Think of Bo!"

"What do you think I do all the time, huh? Why do you think I do what I do? Because I like it? Do you think it's fun for me? NO! It's not. I don't want to be a street kid and I don't want to have to sell Scipio's stuff. And with Barbarossa's contract, I'd never have to do it again for a long, long time. We could have a good life until I'm grown up and take officially care of him. Let him have the life he deserves. And he could have all the things he wants."

"Bo doesn't want things. He doesn't care about school or having no proper home or no friends outside the gang. All he asks for is to be with his brother. And if you do what Barbarossa wants, you risk everything. Don't you see that? And what about us, Prop? I told you, I couldn't stand loosing you."

"I promised her on her death bed! If you have any other idea how to get our hands on money, say it, because if you don't, you rally haven't any reason to tell me not to do what's necessary to provide for my little brother!"

He practically shouted frustrated at Mona.

"I don't believe you, Prosper. Just listen to yourself! What's happened to the boy who told me he would never steal?"

"He's learnt that sometimes you have to compromise your principles to survive."

"Then let Scip do it. If he's caught, then it won't be as bad." Hope brightened her voice and face.

"You don't know what you're saying. Scip's father would skin him alive and afterwards send the rest of him to his brother's mercenaries' camp to straighten him out. You know what that would do to him."

"So? Better he than you!"

"You don't mean that! You can't possibly mean that, Mona." Prosper was appalled.

Mona slumped, defeated. She felt torn inside, dead.

"No, certainly not. I just can't stand and watch your doom. I just can't watch loosing you."

"You won't. Mona, you won't. I promise."

Tenderly Prosper wanted to pull her close and caress her hair, her cheek. But she stepped back and hugged herself, trembling. Faintly she could hear her teeth chattering with cold. Or was it the shock? Horror visions of Prosper being led away in handcuffs danced in front of her inner eye. She heard the shouts of policemen, Bo's cries as he tried to get out of the grasp of a hard lipped aunt to reach his brother and herself falling to her knees begging the _commissario_ to let Prop go... She closed her eyes to shield herself from these visions, but they persisted and got even worse. She couldn't bear them. It was too much.

"No, Prosper."

"No?"

She turned around, walked a few steps to put some distance between them.

"I'm sorry, but I just can't…." Her voice broke.

"Mona?" Fear gripped Prosper. What was happening? He stepped towards her.

"Please. Don't follow me!"

She turned around and silently crying she left the cone of light to walk home. Alone.

"Mona…"

Dumbfounded Prosper stood there under the street light with his arm outstretched and watched her back getting smaller and listened to her footsteps die away.

"Mona…." He called out for her. "Please…"

His legs set themselves in motion without conscious thought and Prop found himself running after her. But the crooks and turns of the small Venetian alleys had swallowed her. Eventually he slumped down at a deserted landing stage. He hugged his knees and closed his eyes against the sting of the tears.

"Please, Mona, don't leave me….I need you." He whispered to the dark waters.

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Along with so many other couples Scipio and Annia headed for the Parco to see the fireworks that were supposed to start in a little while. Until now they had strolled along, sharing candy floss and other sweets, rode a small Ferris wheel, a chairoplane and Scip had tried to win at a shooting gallery a stuffed animal and ended up with a cheap plastic soldier to his grave dismay. Smiling Annia suggested to give it to the little boy who looked longingly at it while he was waiting patiently for his father to try his luck. Scipio felt better that he had at least made a little boy happy and Annia loved the thought alone of Scipio trying to win a little token – maybe for her?

Determined Scipio led her to a monument of a mariner and helped her climbing up the jib boom so she could watch from an elevated spot. At first she had been a bit piqued to show so little respect but then relaxed and even laughed when Scipio had explained to her that it would stay in the family. And indeed, a memorial tablet showed the name of the proud seafarer – Admiral Guiseppe Pietro Massimo, honoured by the thankful Republic of Venetia for his merits in the battles against the Ottomans some four hundred years ago. The crowd quieted down and Annia got surprised. Based on Roman fireworks she expected either no music or a techno mix. But now the sounds of violins wafted over from the Isola di S. Giorgio Maggiore to get people in the mood. And with the first rocket Handel's Fireworks Music accompanied the event and elevated it to new heights. Listening to the old majestic music, watching the night sky explode with balls of light and glittering stars reflected in the waters in front of the skyline of old city and feeling Scipio sitting closely behind her, Annia began to feel the magic of Venice for the first time. Goosebumps broke out on her skin. A soft hustle of cloth and she was enveloped in warmth and the clean smell of Scipio. She leant back and was enfolded in his arms. Her head found a resting place at his shoulder and breathless she followed the fireworks, an enchanted smile etched onto her face. When the last glittering rain had fallen into the Laguna and the full moon reigned again over Venice strings with melodies of "Rondo Veneziano" let it end softly and melodic. Deeply moved silence laid over the parc and only after a while people began to move with a cough here and there, speaking with hushed voices, afraid to break the spell light and sound had cast over the parc.

This was perfection. Pure magic. A moment in Annia's young life so wonderful, so indescribably great that it rendered her motionless and speechless and set her heart soaring. Time was suspended and she felt like floating and connected to the sky, the night, the trees, the grass, the water, Admiral Massimo and the boy behind her. And these most powerful emotions spilled over into hot tears.

Frightened Scipio didn't know what to do. Was she hurt? With her back to him he couldn't see her face. So he released his hold on her to climb down, taking her down with him and pulling her back, loosening her mask to search her face. But he had no chance. With a soft cry Annia flung herself into his arms and clung to him like no one had ever before. Helplessly Scipio stroked her hair and back, making soothing noises to calm her down. Was this a "Breakfast at Tiffanies" moment? He couldn't really understand it, but once he had caught Violetta in a sea of used tissues crying over Holly Golightly and Paul Varzak alias Fred as they stood in the pouring rain with the cat pressed between them lost in a kiss with the Moonriver melody playing in the background. Confused he had asked what was wrong and that evening he had learnt that women could cry also when they were happy or plainly overwhelmed by their emotions. He desperately hoped with Annia that was the reason, too. That she was just happy. He lost track of the time but eventually Annia quieted down.

"Everything alright?" He dared to whisper.

Annia nodded a bit embarrassed, still not trusting her voice to be stable. Her nerves were shot and a languidness spread in her body. Scipio pulled back a bit and took her chin carefully in his hand to turn her head. Tenderly he wiped off the traces of her tears. _Scipio,_ she spoke his name in her mind over and over again. How could she have ever thought him cruel and unfeeling? Scipio was nothing like the boys she knew. He was so much more than they in every aspect. And there was so much she didn't know about him yet. Annia realised she wanted to be with him. Always.

Still wrapped in the arms of the dark haired boy, Annamaria decided to go for broke. She smiled coyly and turned another shade of red.

"Scipio, do you always wear that mask?"

"No, why?"

He looked puzzled at her. What was she getting at? This business of understanding a girl was surely trying. Wait, that look he knew. He had seen it more than once on Simona before she and Prop vanished upstairs for a little while. Suddenly his heart began pounding like mad. Did that mean she liked him as much as he liked her?

"I'll take it off occasionally." He tried to play it cool.

""So…later…presumably you ARE going to escort me home…Will you take it off again for me?"

She started to fiddle with a button of his jeans jacket. Nothing was as interesting as the dark silver button she was playing with to avoid looking into his eyes.

"I could be persuaded to remove it on your doorstep…" he tightened his hold on her and folded his hands behind her back. She whispered almost inaudibly.

"I'd like to persuade you…"

"I'd like very much to be persuaded." Scipio whispered back. "Want to go home now?"

Annia nodded her consent with weak knees, overcome by the consequences of her courage.

They didn't talk on the way back. But joyous anticipation crackled like energy between them.

Scipio smiled to himself. Who would have thought? Certainly not him. It seemed he owed Marlena a big one after all. He shook his head bewildered. Soon, very soon he would know what it was like to kiss a girl. Why couldn't they run all the way back? But then he remembered a remark and his happiness and anticipation died a sudden and painful death. As much as he wanted to experience these new feelings with Annia, he couldn't do it. He _wouldn't_ do it.

With every step she took Annia became more and more a nervous wreck. What if she did it wrong? She had never kissed a boy before. So what was she supposed to do? Should she tell him? What if she just went ahead? Maybe he wouldn't notice the difference? What if Scipio didn't like it? What if _she_ didn't like it? She looked at him from the side. Surely he had kissed a girl before and was experienced. Immediately a spark of jealousy shot up in her. But she fought it down and tried to look at it from a more practical point of view. At least one of them would know what they were doing. She felt the knot in her stomach grow.

All too soon they stood in front of Annia's home under a brightly lit lantern, so Scipio looked around and pulled her towards a small alleyway between two houses, barely wide enough to let a person pass through. The light was dim.

Annia looked back. The lights were out behind her windows, which meant that her mother wasn't home yet.

"Hi…" she whispered.

"Hi back…"

"Scip, I have to tell you something…."

"Annia, we have to talk…"

They chuckled nervously.

"You go first…." Scipio deferred to her.

Annia looked down to gather some courage, then looked straight ahead to his nose.

"I want to apologize to you."

"What for?"

"For earlier you know. You must think I'm totally insane. Usually I'm not such a cry baby…you know, but with everything that happened today… the wonderful music and the fireworks….the moon reflected in the Laguna…you…it was just…."

"…too much for a moment?" Scip tried to help her.

Annia shrugged embarrassed and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She nodded.

"I know."

"So you felt it, too?" She looked up full of hope that he would understand her.

Scipio hummed his agreement. "It was pretty intense for a while."

Once again he began to stroke her long hair. He found himself doing this quite often, when he came to think about. He liked the feel of it. So silky and he could ball a fistful and still there was so much of it flowing over his hands. It was a heady feeling, waking up something primitive in him. But the blasted satin bands of her mask got in the way.

"Scip?"

"Yes?"

"I suppose it's not too far off to assume you've done this before…" Her voice faltered, when Scipio smoothly untied the bands of her mask in a flowing motion, caught it with his other hand and continued stroking her hair as if nothing had happened. Her already none too stable legs became even more wobbly and she started to tremble.

"…but I just want you to know that I've never done this before. " She rushed. _Please don't hurt me _she finished in her thoughts. Bravely she put her hands on his shoulders.

"Me neither." Scipio admitted smiling, suddenly shy.

"What? You never…but…." _You're so good at this. _Slowly her hand wandered up into his hair to untie his mask as well. But Scipio caught her in his and pulled it down.

"And as much as I want it, Annia…I shouldn't do it."

"What?" Annia felt as if a bucket with ice cold water had been poured over her. She struggled to free herself.

"You want to be a nun. It wouldn't be right. You're taboo for me. You belong to God."

"What makes you think that? I don't want to be a nun!"

"You're not?" Scipio was thoroughly confused. He could still recall how he grinned into his table napkin, when her mother proudly told the company at the table.

"NO! For heaven's sake no! Scip, that's what my mother wants me to be. But that's positively not what I want!"

Scipio looked at her and tried to read her mind. Eventually convinced that she told the truth and wasn't caught up in the moment, he slowly started to smile lazily and raised his arm to untie his mask He let it fall where it wanted to.

Annia stepped closer and they embraced. For a short moment they stood still and tried to gather courage for the last step. Scipio bent his head a bit and Annia raised hers a bit, eyes closed when they were sure they were in the right position and then a fraction of an inch was all it took.

Eyes full of wonder looked at each other. Breaths hold too long were expelled harshly and hastily taken in and a bit more secure they found each other again. Hands tightened and when one of them moved their lips a bit the world exploded all over again with sensations. Annia didn't realise she was shoved against the wall. She was just grateful that there was something solid behind her to help her stand as her knees threatened to give out for good. Scipio thought fleetingly of Prop. His best friend had lied to him. This was beyond mind-blowing. And then he didn't think anymore at all for a long while.

Eventually the first storm quieted down and breathlessly they starred at each other in the dim light.

"Annia…." Full of wonder Scip's finger traced her slightly swollen lips. Her fingers stroked through his hair and massaged his scalp in the most pleasant way. His eyes closed partly. This was addictive.

Annia felt like bubbling over from sheer joy and happiness. Was this really happening? Her eyes focussed on the wall behind him. The paint peeled off in some spots and mould grew close to the ground to bear witness to the frequent floods that threatened the existence of the old city in the Laguna. The air was tangy and the night was slightly chilly. And she, Annamaria Venturi, born Roman, was in love with this dying juwel and most of all with the raven haired boy in her arms who had the most peculiar expression on his face.

**_ To be continued_**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Pretending to be in deep prayer Hornet scanned her surroundings in the old church. She heard the old doors open and close. Mosca had entered. He lit a candle and sat down close to the confessional. It was close to three o' clock in the afternoon and he felt uncomfortable. These old churches gave him the creeps. But they were on a mission. Hornet let her prayer book fall down with a bang. Riccio strolled in, caught Mosca's tiny nod and left. A small boy, limping, listened attentively as an older one explained to him in German the sights of this old, derelict church as they walked around and entered all its tiny chapels. Tourists normally didn't find it or just passed by, so the believers found their attention steered towards this unusual happening. Especially an old lady covered by a hooded cloak followed attentively the comings and goings of the children. She smiled satisfied. It seemed the Thief Lord was as good as his reputation and Barbarossa's reassurances legit that he was the best in the business. An old man picked up a basket and entered the confessional. Morosina looked up, when the doors opened again. Three o' clock sharp. But then the little boy created a bit of a fuss and she got distracted for a moment. From the corner of her eye she saw only a shadow ducking into the other half of the confessional.

"You are still very young." The Conte opened.

"Does age matter in this transaction?" Scipio shot back as cool as he could. He was nervous and scared. When he had entered the confessional the game had turned into the real thing. Through the wooden grating he could see the face of a very old man.

"Indeed, it does. And soon you will find out why."

"What is it you that want to have retrieved?"

"It's neither made of gold nor silver. It's made of wood."

"You want me to steal a madonna?" Scipio knew that the old statues were often worth a lot of money. And there were also nuts who collected statues of the Virgin Mary and angels or the ones of saints. And the most valuable ones were often linked to a tight security system. He felt breaking into a sweat.

"You're very sharp-minded. That's good. But no. Nothing of that kind. It's the wooden wing of a Venetian winged lion. I've looked for it for many decades. And you will be the one to get it for me. Security will be next to non-existent."

"What about the payment?"

"A business man, too. Twenty thousand."

"Euros?"

The old man smiled. Many people, especially the older ones, still tended to calculate in liras to get a feel of the value of merchandise. The few years gone by since the currency changeover hadn't changed that yet. Indeed, the boy was no fool. Even if he wore this ridiculous bird mask as disguise.

"Euros."

"Sounds like a fair price."

"You will find a basket, when I'm gone. Inside is all necessary information you need for the job. If you have retrieved the object, get in touch with me. Treat Sophia well, she's a friendly creature."

The old man left and Scipio expelled the breath he hadn't been aware of holding inside. It had been done. His first contract as a real thief. He didn't feel to well as it was. A bit shaky he rose to fetch the basket. A quiet cooing came from it. Carefully he opened the basket to find a homer and an envelope. Looking up he saw the last of his gang leave the church silently without paying any attention to him just as they had agreed this early afternoon. First they would scout the church to see, if it was a trap for the Thief Lord by the police – you could never know after all - then Bo and Prop would create a bit of a distraction, while he, Scipio, would duck into the confessional. Afterwards they'd leave one after another without drawing undue attention to themselves. He would leave last.

Scipio looked around and his gaze fell upon a saint almost hidden in a small chapel. The small plate identified him as Saint Nicolas – patron saint of the children and the thieves. Smiling Scipio walked up to the small altar and knelt down. Not overly religious he felt it would help to have someone in their corner to root for them though. Besides, it was high time to thank someone higher up for the luck he had had so far. Violetta and his father hadn't found out yet that so many little things were missing from the casa. And since last night he had a girl-friend. Annia and he had been so lost in each other that they had almost missed her mother coming back. She had barely managed to get into the house on time.

Scipio closed his eyes, dreaming. He could still smell her hair and taste her kisses on his lips. Blushing he berated himself. This was not the time nor the place to start thinking naughty thoughts. The more so as he had done his fair share of these the rest of the previous night. Lost to the world for a moment, he hadn't heard the small gasp of the old lady in the hooded cloak, when he had pulled off his mask, kneeling down.

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Back the Stella they gathered around Scipio.

"Oh, a pigeon!" Bo was excited. A new pet for him.

"Careful, Bo. This is Sophia. She's our link to the Conte. Make sure Lisa and Tygger don't get to her."

Awed Bo nodded, while Scipio opened the envelope. He found a photo of the wing and his eyes widened. Indeed, no other could do the job.

"We have to get this wing for the Conte. It's somewhere in the orphanage of Venice."

"Someone has to get inside and look for it." Prop spoke quietly.

"I'll go!" Bo piped up.

"No, you won't! Don't be stupid." Shouted Prosper. He hadn't slept a wink this night.

"And neither will you." Scip spoke with authority. "They learn who you are and five minutes later the police stands on the doormat and an hour later you're both in a plane heading North." He shot a hard stare towards his friend.

"And you can't go either." Hornet spoke up. "The risk is too high that they might recognise you somehow. That leaves us. Riccio, Mosca and me."

"I'll do it." Mosca said. "Contrary to Riccio and Hornet, I've never been in an orphanage. I'm not wanted. Police doesn't even know I exist. I'll get in, search the place, take the wing and escape."

Scipio frowned.

"You sure?"

"No, but I don't see any other option than me. You run out of things at home and we need the money. One big heist is better than trying to endlessly pickpocket what we need to survive." He didn't want his friends to know his true motives for volunteering.

"Anybody any other idea?" Scip asked around. "Prop? What do you think?"

"Let him do it." Prop answered flatly. _I don't care…much._

"Come on, Prop. You're the mastermind of tactics in his family." Hornet complimented him. What was wrong with him? Somehow his heart wasn't in it. A stray thought jolted her. Had he had a falling out with his precious Mona? Was this her chance to make him realise that she was far better girl-friend material than the blond?

Prop looked up to the big star that served as the main light source and thought for a moment.

"Don't wash yourself for the next few days. No food. Where do we have the torn clothes? In three days you try to steal someone's purse and let yourself be caught. Police will send you straight to the orphanage. When you have found the wing, take it and come back here."

"No food?" Mosca's face fell.

"Prop's right. You can't look too well after all. Best if you blend in again with the other street kids to be authentic." Riccio consented.

"Then that's the plan. Prop, if you have the time….I'd like to have word with you. Come upstairs? "

Scipio closed the strategy session. For a moment it looked as if Prop would refuse, but then he stood up and shuffled towards the backstairs.

After a few moments Hornet followed them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What's wrong with you?" she heard Scipio.

"Mona's dumped me last night. She knows of the contract and dumped me."

"WHAT? Why?…Oh, Prop. I'm so sorry."

Scipio felt torn. He wanted to tell Prop badly about Annia and him, but how could he talk of his happiness, when his friend was so down?

"She said she can't bear to see me in handcuffs. She thinks we have no chance at all to succeed. And I think she might be right. We're just a bunch of crazy dreamers. We don't know anything about breaking and entering."

"That's why we make it an inside job." Scip grinned. "I think she's just shocked. Up to now she has seen only the good side of your life. In a few day's time she's calmed down and comes back to you. She loves you like mad. Even if I don't know why." Scipio tried to tease his friend a bit.

Blinking away his tears Prop nodded weakly. Maybe Scip was right. Maybe they would survive this and get enough money. And maybe Mona would come back to him. He could only hope.

"You alright?" Scip couldn't bear to see his friend so unhappy. Maybe….nobody would ever need to know…

"Hey, if you ever tell this, I'll deny it to my death bed, but want to have a hug?" Last night he had learnt that hugs could be tremendously comforting, even if totally unmanly.

Shakily Prosper laughed.

"I won't tell, if you don't tell. But yes, a hug would be nice, I think."

Scipio opened his arms and Prop stepped right into them.

"Come here, big boy."

For a few moments the boys stood motionless in a tight embrace. Prop felt the comfort flowing from Scipio right into him. Maybe everything would be alright eventually.

"Better?"

Prop nodded against Scip's shoulder and grinned.

"You know, Bo's right. You DO smell nice."

The other boy chuckled.

"Me, French soap and expensive fabric softener. Admit it, I'm irresistible, baby."

He opened his arms, when he felt Prop wanted to leave.

"That's awful, Scip!"

Grinning Prop punched him lightly into the shoulder.

"But you smile again. That makes it beautiful."

"God, what happened to you?"

"Being in love and being loved back."

Scip bid his lips. He hadn't wanted to tell Prosper. He really hadn't.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He rushed, when he saw Prop's face falling a bit only to brighten again.

"Don't be an idiot! I'm happy for you. I really am. When you and Annia can get together, then I do know that my Mona will come back to me."

"How's so?"

"Because the most impossible thing has already happened. The rest is only a question of probability."

This time it was Prop who felt light pain in his shoulder.

Hornet felt punched in the abdomen. Was there never a chance for her and Prosper? Quietly she headed back to lay down for a while in her box to have a good but silent cry.

_**To be continued... **_


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23 

_Comments: paragraph in italics is a flash back of Mona._

_Time frame: about 4 days later than the day the gang accepted the Conte's contract._

With every step Mona took towards the Stella the knot in her stomach got bigger. Although she had missed her friends the last few days, she had mixed feelings concerning Prosper. She missed him desperately. His wit, his thoughts he shared openly with her, his smile, his low voice when they were alone, his kisses and shy caresses, all these tormented her and brought back memories of much happier times. Before he had decided to kill his integrity and doom himself, she harshly reminded herself to steel herself against her longing and love for him. Yet, she feared she would crumble and beg for forgiveness at the first sight of him. As she walked down the narrow passageway to the side entrance she felt fresh tears well up. She sniffed and tried to blink them back. Hadn't she cried enough these days?

_She had more stumbled than walked back home, blinded by tears. She had given Ida and Viktor a real freight when she had walked by. They had watched the fireworks from the terrace, sharing a good bottle of wine... In her room she had plopped onto her bed, burying her face into her pillow, shouting at her mother to leave her alone in her misery. But Ida had just brought her a mug of hot chocolate and a large box of tissues. And then she had really broken down and clung to her mother like a little girl. She had desperately wanted to tell her everything but had known she never could.__ Her mother had rocked her like a little child telling her soothingly that she'd understand and that the first time would hurt most and if she wanted to talk about what had happened and who the mysterious boy was who had caused this misery. __Up to then Mona had thought her boyfriend had been a well kept secret from her mother and Viktor and had been dumbfounded to learn otherwise. Her mother had just smiled and asked her if she had really thought she could keep this a secret. The bright eyes, the happiness and the freshly developed fashion sense had been a dead give-away. Besides, Ida had already seen him. Mona had laughed and cried almost hysterically from relief, when her mother had described Scipio with his black mask from earlier this day when he had picked her up.__ But to her mother's deep disappointment she had just shook her head and kept silent, burdened by her grief and secrets. No matter what she would never betray her friends confidence.  
_

After a small eternity the door opened carefully and Hornet greeted her coldly.

"What are you doing here? Haven't you caused enough grief around here? Prosper's totally devastated. You better go home, Simona. You're not welcome anymore."

Mona's eyes narrowed.

"And you're nursing his broken heart? Didn't take you long now, hmh? Keep dreaming, Hornet. He doesn't want you. Besides, I do have other friends and duties here. Just because Prosper and I have troubles…"

She pushed the younger girl aside to enter the old movie theatre.

"You dumped him." Hornet followed quickly.

"We quarrelled. Every couple does that from time to time. That doesn't mean anything."

Mona surprised herself with her words. She _had_ dumped Prosper. Why did she argue that point?

"Well, that's not how Prosper tells it. Anyway, he's a free agent now. And if you think you can waltz back in here and snap with your fingers and he comes running, you're sadly mistaken. He's way too proud to crawl back to you."

"Don't explain Prosper to me! I know him far better than you."

"Oh, does that mean you actually talk? I hadn't thought you'd have time for it being busy snogging all the time." Hornet replied cattily.

The girls glared at each other. Annia stepped closer. She hadn't been able to help overhearing the exchange of words.

"What's going on here? Your fishmongers' brawl can be heard back in Roma! While I don't know you very well yet, I think I'm qualified enough to give you both a piece of my mind. Hornet, for once and all: Prop's not interested in you. If he had ever been, he would have had more than enough time to act on it. You have to accept that. And I can only imagine how much that hurts. So I'm really feeling sorry for you, but you have to let go of this crush! And you, Mona, need a good dose of reality. I've strolled through Rome at night and I've seen things you obviously can't even imagine exist. You don't know how lucky Prosper and Bo are to have been picked up that night by Scipio."

Mona opened her mouth to protest, but Annia was faster, pressing her hands into her waist.

"I don't say that, because Scipio's my boyfriend, but because it's the utter truth! What do you think would have happened to them? I've seen into the dead eyes of lost street kids. They stand in the disreputable streets around _Roma Termini_ deep at night, waiting for victims they can rob or scrounge some money or customers to sell drugs or even worse themselves to. Most of them are hooked on drugs to make their miserable life more bearable and make it even worse by doing so. With Scipio providing them with the knickknacks from his home to sell, Prop and the others have been spared all this misery. It's been a good life. But now the source's drying up and they have to find alternatives. And personally, I think they made the right choice by accepting the contract. It'll be almost without risk and it'll bring in a lot of money they can survive on for a long time. Besides, Mosca will do most and bear the main risk….Don't look so surprised….Oh, forgot for a moment. You don't know even what the contract is about. I tell you and you will see there is no need to panic or to run away from this…."

Annia led the confused Mona into the main room of the Stella, pushed her into a love seat at the back of the room, sat down next to her and explained quietly what had happened during her absence and the plan the guys had come up with. Calmed and placated Mona started to face new fears. Would Prop take her back after she had him treated so shabbily? Or would he indeed rather be with Hornet? Had she thrown away the best thing of her life in blind panic and self-righteousness? It wasn't as if she didn't like Hornet, quite the opposite indeed, but the thought alone that Prop might entertain the idea of getting together with her, even if only fleetingly, made her stomach churn and hate the girl.

Hornet tried to concentrate on her school books, but Annia's words swirled around in her head. What did _she _know about unrequited love? The gut wrenching pains it brought to watch the boy you loved with your entire heart smile at another girl? What was wrong with her anyway? Was she too stingy and brash? Too fat or ugly? She looked down at her chest. Okay, so she was still rather flat and small, while Mona and Annia were more developed than her and almost as tall as the boys. But they were also two years her senior. So that didn't really count, did it? First she had loved Scipio, their mysterious and bold leader. But he also had never given her a second glance. And now Prosper. They had really got along quite well and she thought there had been moments between them. But then the witch had cast a spell over Prosper and ousted her effortlessly and by doing so destroyed her dreams. She had dreamt of strolling with Prosper along the canals, holding hands, talking and laughing with each other and going to the movies, when they had money to spare. Maybe even kiss sometimes. She felt her cheeks burn thinking about Prosper and kissing. He and Mona thought they had been discrete, but she had seen them together. They had been lying on the old mattress on the roof balcony, brought upstairs by Scipio and Prosper to be more comfortable when they had their private talks, whispering with Mona giggling and Prosper beaming from sheer happiness. And hands had been roaming over clothes and mouths had locked passionately. And she had even heard their quiet moans and heavy breathing, when they had their snogging sessions. But when she had pictured herself in Mona's place she had felt instantly ill at ease. She wasn't ready for the things Prosper and Mona shared. She still battled with her flashbacks of a dark night from a life time ago.

Loud knocking roused her out of her musings. The girls stood up and looked at themselves before Hornet once again took on the job to open the door. Annia and Mona stayed a bit behind. Riccio and Bo stormed into the room, bringing excitement and ice-cream.

"Mona, Mona…." shouted Bo excitedly and tried to jump into her arms. Mona groaned under the strain of holding the boy up.

"Where have you been? Prosper's been so unhappy." He whispered. "It's been really hard to cheer him up. And we had a deal, remember? You promised me to help me cheering him up." He shouted at her again.

"I know, Bo, and I'm sorry for letting you down and let you do all the hard work alone. Forgive me?"

Bo slid out of her arms onto the red carpet.

"Well, you can make up for it. " He gripped her hand. "Come on, Prop's here, too." He pulled her towards the Stella's side entrance.

"Bo, wait, maybe he doesn't want to see me…." She stalled, but Bo only pulled harder and Mona stumbled after him.

In the dimly lit hallway Prosper and Mona looked silently at each other, rooted to the spot. Bo sighed heavily in disappointment and let go of her hand. Why did the grownups make things so complicated? And with new determination he started to push and shove her from behind until she stood right in front of Prosper.

"So…there." He observed them for a second longer and left, when he was called away by Annia.

Eventually Prosper broke the silence.

"I missed you, Mona. I thought….".

"I know. I missed you, too. More than you can imagine. I'm so, so sorry. I guess, I've never realised what it truly means to be homeless and on your own. Annia set me straight. And I rather have you breaking and entering than selling drugs or…_yourself_." She finished blushing.

"Sshh…" Prosper laid a finger on her lips, tracing them slowly, revelling in their soft texture.

"I understand if you think I'm no good girl-friend and no longer want to have anything to do with me, but …." She looked in his olive green eyes and felt his feather-light touch promising a future.

"Stop babbling." He whispered huskily and that was her last warning before she was shoved against the wall with Prosper kissing her senseless. He felt dizzy from the sensations of having Mona back in his arms and her kissing him back with equal fervour. Until now he had always painstakingly avoided letting Mona see or Heavens forbid! feel his physical reaction to her. He had been too embarrassed about how she affected him. But now he wanted her to know how much he loved and desired her. With a sudden tug he pressed her flush against him and was rewarded by a choked moan, which knocked his fever even higher. Swept away by pleasure Mona tightened her embrace and let her hands explore new paths underneath the back of his shirt.

Humming under his voice Scipio opened with a key the door to the Stella and was rooted to the spot. Disbelieving he took in the scene displayed in front of his eyes. He pushed a hand through his hair in unease, when he realised that his presence remained undetected. His stomach muscles clenched and he was torn between a spark of arousal and his shame for it, watching his friends make out heatedly.

He walked by on tiptoes and released the breath he had been holding in, when he had reached the main room.

Bo skipped towards him.

"Scip, Scip…do you want some ice-cream, too?"

Scipio ignored him, because his gaze fell on his beautiful girl-friend for a few days and his heart rate picked up again for a different reason. Would he ever experience with her what he had just witnessed in the hall? How would that feel like? He felt a shiver run down his back and his stomach muscles clenched again.

Annia blushed and smiled shyly, when she looked up from explaining something to Riccio from the school books.

"Hi." She greeted him softly.

Scipio felt insecure. They had exchanged soft kisses in dark passageways almost every evening and last night for the first time even deeper ones that had left them panting and tingling all over, but would she allow him finally today to kiss her in front of all of his friends? Neither was he embarrassed nor ashamed to be seen kissing her. Eventually he kissed lingering her cheek. And the smile in her eyes told him it had been the right thing to do. She didn't want to give public physical proof that they were indeed a couple yet.

"Fine, I'm going to ask Prop and Mona" Bo huffed.

And he was about to run away, when he was jerked back roughly by the back of his shirt at the last second.

"STOP! Prop and Mona don't want ice-cream now, Bo. But I'd like to have some." He heard Scipio's voice in his back.

"Okay."

Smiling brightly he skipped towards their small kitchen, already shouting to Hornet that Scip would like to have ice-cream, too.

"Did you see Prop and Mona on your way in?" Annia smiled.

"Yes, more of them than I wanted to."

"Are they're making up?" Riccio asked curiously.

"Making up, making out, same difference" Scipio muttered.

"Really?" Eagerly Riccio stood up only to be pressed into his chair again by a strong hand.

"If I think I didn't need to see this, you definitely won't, understand?" growled Scipio.

Riccio's disappointed face brightened when Hornet walked in with a tray full of bowls with extra-large heaps of delicious ice-cream.

A bit later Riccio and Scipio were collecting the dirty bowls, when finally they heard footsteps coming nearer. Two slightly dishevelled teenagers took the few steps down from the elevated stage and stopped.

"Scip! When did you get in?" exclaimed Prosper taken aback.

Their friends burst out laughing.

"Do you want a rough sketch or a blow-by-blow in Cinemascope and Technicolor?" Scipio answered them still grinning, linking his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair.

Prop's and Mona's face colour turned from a rosy hue to crimson in a heartbeat.

"How was your training?" Prop tried to steer the attention from them to Scipio after he had recovered a bit from his embarrassment.

"Not half as enjoyable as yours, I presume." The latter quipped.

"What does your coach say? Will you make it to the tournament?" Hornet supported Prop, mostly because she still felt raw from the dressing down she had received by Annia. Maybe she should heed her advice and try to get over Prop. Her crush hadn't brought her anything but heartache.

"He says, if I really want it and work hard, I should be able to get into the quarter finals."

"That's great!" Annia applauded and gave his arm closest to her a quick caress.

„Not when you're a bloody Massimo." contradicted Scipio and his smile fell a bit. He propped his face into his hands. "But who cares anyway? I'm not doing this for him, but for me."

"What about your competition?" Prop wanted to know; absentminded he pulled a chair out for Mona.

"The toughest nut to crack will be Christiano Quaetani. He's last year's Champion."

"Is he the brother of one Susanna Quaetani?" asked Mona thoughtfully as she sat down and Prosper took his seat next to her.

Scipio shrugged.

"I don't know. Could be. I think I recall a sister, now that you're mentioning it. Why do you ask?"

She grimaced.

"Just curious. One Susanna Quaetani is extremely popular with the boys in my school. Apparently she's very _charitable_."

Prop and Scip grinned broadly at each other over the table and a second later two identical whacks and two death glares squashed any improper thoughts. Mona and Annia were surprised. One had mirrored the actions of the other without conscious thought. With a smile the still fragile bond between them deepened. They had come to a mutual understanding. The boys rubbed the backs of their heads.

"Ouch, that hurt." Prosper complained.

"Yeah." agreed Scipio.

"Good!" Mona was pleased.

"That means you won't forget this lesson any time soon." Annia smiled smugly.

"As we speak of forgetting things…what about Mosca? Did everything go according to plan?" wanted Scipio to know.

Riccio laughed.

"The one time you try to get caught… "

"You wouldn't believe it. Eventually he practically yanked a purse of the back pocket of one tourist. The police came and picked him up. We waited and eventually a Sister came to take him with her. Now it's up to him." Prosper explained.

"Yeah, shouldn't be too hard to find the wing, take it and come back here. He'll be back before he starts missing us." Scipio concluded satisfied.

_ To be continued with the adventures of a sorely neglected member of the Star Family... _


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

**This chapter contains a few bad words and sexual and religious issues some might be offended by. **

Mosca looked back for a last time, when the big iron gate closed behind the Sister and him. He felt trapped all of a sudden. Perhaps the three metres high wall, covered over by moss and ivy that surrounded the Orphanage, with its iron spikes on the cap deck had a lot to do with this new feeling. He suspected the only way in and out of the orphanage was to go through that gate, guarded by a severe looking Sister.

The sister who had brought him here dropped her hand off his shoulder where it had laid to give him at any time a painful squeeze, if he decided to bolt. It had been mostly an affectionate gesture, but also one that had brought clearly across who was in charge from now. Certainly not Mosca.

"Welcome to your new home, Mosca. You'll see, in no time you will have forgotten the unpleasant memories that are now your past. Here you will find everything you need."

Mosca nodded. The dread got only stronger.

"Follow me to the boy's wing." She encouraged him to walk with her to the right side of the four-storeyed building. The windows on the first floor were gaily decorated with window colour pictures of trees, flowers, little animals and such. The others looked more austere.

"On the other side is the girl's wing. Strictly no male allowed. Any transgressions from that rule will be punished most _severely_."

They entered the building and with wide eyes Mosca took everything in. The dark wooden floor, the dark wooden staircase, the white walls, the statues of holy men and women….and most of all the eerie silence that covered the building like a wet blanket. This was an orphanage filled with children. But where were they?

A boy about 14 with his hands in his trousers' pockets skipped down carefree and stopped short, when he saw the Sister with Mosca. His quiet whistling died.

"ANDREA! Why aren't you in the chapel?! This is the second time this month we catch you outside during prayer. Last warning!"

"I'm sorry, Sister Benedicta. But I didn't feel too good all of a sudden. I'm just on my way there."

The Sister sighed.

"Well, it doesn't matter now. Andrea, this is Mosca. Take him under your wing. He's going sleep in your dorm. You're released from prayer. See, that he gets new clothes and everything."

Andrea nodded and Sister Benedicta vanished into a room with the inscription "private" on its door.

"Hi, welcome in the slammer! Where did they catch you?"

"Piazza San Bartholomeo." Mosca answered shyly.

"Pickpocket or purse pocket?"

"Huh?….pickpocket. I was careless. The tourist wasn't as overwhelmed and daft as I thought." Mosca played his role.

"Me and the gang, they caught us two years ago in our hide-out. I was lucky. As the youngest they brought me here. The others are in the borstal over in Mestre. They were too old." He shrugged.

„You, too? What are you doing here then…?"

"The illustrious municipality of Venice has decided in its grand wisdom to catch two flies at once and made a deal with the church. Let me give you the tour…..On the ground floor we have administration and the kitchen with refectory. Kitchen duty is every four weeks in a rotating system."

Andrea led Mosca to the staircase.

"First floor is for the orphans age zero to nine – it's the happy zone. See the toys laying around? They aren't as strict with them as with us elder ones. But let's move on…the floor where the Sisters sleep...this is the floor for the orphans age 10 and above…. It's okay there, too, I guess….and now we enter our floor. Here they put us – the ones that have been picked up from the streets and of whom they think that they are young enough to be reformed – besides it costs Venice less to put us here than bring us over to the mainland and pay for Mestre's borstal for the incurable ….This is our dorm. Me, Basti, Luigi and now you."

Andrea opened the door and Mosca's gaze fell upon a larger table with four chairs, four lockers and four beds neatly done. The boy dropped down onto one chair and nodded towards the beds.

"The one over there is yours. Now sit down and let me explain our dorm and the house rules to you. You're the last to come, that means you will do our chores for us. Make our beds and keep the room clean. Be a good boy and you won't have any troubles around here, understood? Secondly, wake-up call is at six, breakfast 6.30, morning prayer 7.00, school from 7.15 to 12.00, then lunch, again prayer from 13.00 to 13.15, and school till three in the afternoon. Then we have half an hour off before it's homework time in the refectory until 17.30 hrs. Then it's needed for setting the tables. If you haven't finished your homework by then, you can finish it in your room. Supper at six, in summer an hour later. From 6.45 to seven evening prayer and afterwards until nine it's our free time to do as we please. Light's out at nine. Every second Saturday we can get out of here for the afternoon. There are two strict rules as to where the Sisters have no sense of humour - well they don't have much sense of humour anyway. Must come from constant sexual frustration."

Mosca blushed embarrassed, but Andrea ignored it.

"Miss one of the prayers or mess on Sunday and you get a black mark. Miss three in a month without any good reason like being dead, you're in for it. And the second rule is don't do anything to or with the girls from the other side. It makes no difference to the Sisters whether you just smiled at her or banged the living daylights out of her. But looking at you I think it's safe to say, you're not much interested in them yet."

Andrea grinned knowingly.

"Oh, as we're talking about girls….the Sisters come control us…My advise to you: Always keep your hands on the covers. Otherwise you will be punished. The church doesn't allow for a bit of self-induced relaxation. As I said, they're totally hung up on this sex thing. If they don't get any, you don't get any. But apart from that, they're okay. This place will grow upon you as soon as you've learnt how to bend the rules."

"What's above us?" Mosca asked.

"The attic. That's a totally wicked place. When you've proven your worth, chocolate bunny, we maybe let you join the club and go there one day."

"The club? What's there that makes it so special?"

"My, my, aren't you a curious little fellow?"

"If you want to survive you have to know your grounds…."

"As you are so curious about this place, let's go downstairs to Sister Maria. She will give you your uniform and stuff. And you haven't seen the outside yet."

Andrea plucked at his white shirt and black trousers. The boys left. Freshly dressed Mosca stepped outside, Andrea directed their steps away from the entrance area and soon they passed a little deserted playground and approached a chapel, which doors suddenly opened and a flood of black and white dressed boys and girls of all ages spilled out. Keeping their eyes demurely to the ground the girls left immediately and walked through another small iron gate to enter their half of the grounds. The boys looked at Andrea and Mosca curiously, but then just rushed by to get back into the old building.

"School starts again in a few minutes", Andrea explained their interest but reluctance to act upon it. They entered and immediately Mosca shivered slightly. It was ice-cold and the light that fell through the coloured windows gave it a pious atmosphere. The coloured boy looked carefully around to see, if there were any statues with wings. But he saw only the Holy Family and the usual saints - and in front of the altar two boys were just laying down in their underwear. They spread out their arms and began murmuring a Latin prayer. A Sister sat down close to them. Another boy knelt in front of a Virgin Mary with Jesus in her arms and looked upon her with an unwavering gaze.

"What are they doing?! The floor must be freezing cold. They're going to get sick." Mosca whispered to Andrea, who motioned to him to step out again. Compared to the ice-house the May sun burnt down on them.

"That are Marco and Franco from one floor below. The Sisters have caught them in the act and now they'll lie there until tomorrow morning to cool off their libido as punishment with a Sister watching them and taking care that they don't neglect their prayers for absolution. Poor bastards!"

"What have they done to be punished like this?"

"As I said, zero contact to girls. But sometimes one gets an overstrained right hand and then it's good to have a bed buddy who takes matters into his hands…or somewhere else."

"WHAT?" Mosca shrieked.

"What's wrong? That means nothing. They're not gay or something. They just help each other out. Besides, if it hadn't been for the Pious Francesco, the Sisters wouldn't have ever learnt. He ratted on them. But he will get his just desserts. And he knows it, too. You've seen him. He's praying that it won't hurt too much. He thinks he's a martyr for the Faith. Be aware of him! He snoops around and if he gets wind of some thing or other, he runs to the Sisters."

"Indeed, Merciful Sisters." Mosca observed ironically.

"Come on, it's time to get back. I don't want to be late for school. I can't afford it. I've already two black marks and the month just started."

"Where do you go to school?"

"Here. We upper-floorers never leave the grounds except for our afternoon every two weeks. As I told you before, welcome to the slammer."

Mosca fell silent. What had he got himself into here?

The days passed and Mosca began to feel more at ease and at home. School was easy enough to follow as he had covered the material with Annia, Mona and Prosper before. The other boys were nice enough. The only thing that dulled his experience was that he couldn't find the wing. It was hopeless. The halls and rooms were stuffed with statues, even half a dozen Saint Michaels, but none of them had wings that fit the photo he carried around. They were either too small or too big to match the description.

A week had gone by when Mosca was called to the visitor's room during homework time. When he entered he was greeted by the _commissario_, who had dealt with the paperwork of the case of one Mosca Mbele. He tried to smile, but it never quite reached his eyes and Sister Benedicta's face showed compassion.

"Here, sit down, my boy. How do you like it here?"

The lean man told him invitingly. Mosca's mouth felt dry. With trembling legs he let himself fall down onto the next chair. Half an hour later Mosca left the room again and fled upstairs.

Not caring about breaking the rules, he plopped onto his bed and buried his face in his pillow that was soon wetted by his hot tears. His father was dead! The one hope Mosca had clung to to survive this grand-mother's death and the subsequent hard times before he had met Hornet and later the Thief Lord had died. Deep down Mosca had always known that his father might be dead, but he had never really accepted it. Desperately he had wanted to believe that his father was stranded on a deserted island like Robinson Crusoe and would return some day. But not knowing the truth had eaten him up slowly. This was the reason, why he had volunteered for the job. He had needed an opportunity to get in touch with the police to learn about his father. But now he knew the bitter truth. Even before his grandmother's death there had been a collision in the Malakka Strait between two vessels and his father had died when his ship had sunk. Since his parents had never been married, nobody had thought to inform the next of kin. They hadn't even known there were next of kin in Italy.

A short time later a boisterous Andrea fell through the door. Mosca looked up briefly and sank his head back on the pillow.

"Hey, who died, chocolate bunny?"

"My father." Mosca answered monotone.

Andrea was dumbstruck. What was so bad about it that you cried over it? When his old man died Andrea had wanted to sing and dance on the grave of the old wanker who hadn't taught his son more than how to escape the weekly beatings. But each to his own.

"Tough shit." He just replied. "Hey, wanna come upstairs tonight?" He tried to cheer him up.

"No."

"Okay. But I told you before, it's real wicked. Even a bit scary, if you're not used to it. The faces can give you nightmares."

Mosca kept quiet for a while.

"What faces?" His curiosity won over his grief or a moment. He felt he needed a good diversion or he would drown in his sorrow.

"The faces of the broken statues, man."

"What broken statues?"

"Our broken statues. There must be dozens of them. Some have paint over them, others are chipped, a nose is broken off and stuff. They can't afford to restore them, so they put them up into the attic. Really scary. It feels as if they watch you. If you want, you can come tonight. We're going to have a party."

"I don't feel like having a party."

"Your loss." Andrea shrugged.

Mosca rolled himself into a ball and unseeing he stared at the wall. He felt lonely and he missed his Star family. They would console him and no one would shrug his shoulders and call his father's death "tough shit". And no one would ever get it into his or her head that he might be interested in having a party or broken statues right now. Broken statues...his eyes opened wide. Where do you put a single wing that has no counterpart? Upstairs in the attic, where dozens of other broken statues stood around! The wing had to be there! Apart from the girl's wing he had searched everywhere. Even in the Sister's cells, when they hadn't been there.

"Andrea?"

"Hmh?" The other boy looked up from his magazine, he had swapped against a week's desserts from one of the older boys. The girls in there sure were HOT with capital letters.

"I think I would like to join you tonight after all."

"Wise decision, chocolate bunny."

Mosca rolled his eyes. No matter how often he told Andrea not to call him that, the other boy kept doing it, stating it fit him because he looked so tasty. Which Mosca liked even less but put up with for the sake of peace. He wasn't strong enough to take Andrea on anyway.

Not long after the Sisters' round several boys sneaked up quietly the stairs, each of them carrying a small bag in their hands. Andrea tried the door handle.

"It's open. The others must be already here."

Mosca blinked and reluctantly he followed his peers, who whispered and chuckled exited.

He came to an abrupt halt, when dead eyes stared at him.

"Wow!" He yelped.

"See? I told you they can be scary. Come on, they're further back. And I smell the party has already started without us."

Mosca breathed in. Indeed, there was the smell of cheap beer, cigarette smoke and something very sweet and overpowering. Was that pot?! Quickly he followed Andrea's flashlight and found a dozen elder boys sitting on an old mattress and pillows surrounded by a sea of candle lights.

"Hey, Andrea, why did you bring the baby? He's barely out of diapers." The round of boys burst out laughing.

"Leave him be. He needs a bit of cheering up tonight. So I brought him." Andrea dragged the reluctant Mosca forward.

"Here, baby, have a beer or a smoke. Andrea, take what you want. We're fully stocked tonight."

"But not for very much longer!" Another boy slurred clearly in the early state of drunkenness.

"Here's to our beloved Sisters. Let the devil have his fun, when they meet finally up with him."

Ill at ease Mosca sat down and accepted an opened tin of beer. Carefully he nipped and tried not to grimace too much. That cheap stuff was AWFUL!

"Now look at this! He doesn't like it!" One of the boys cried out.

"You learn quickly enough. Boys, you know what you have to do." Commanded the leader, a boy about seventeen from third floor. And before Mosca could react, he was spread eagled and held down by four strong boys.

"Now, open your mouth!…..OPEN IT!"

His mouth was forced open and beer filled it. Mosca had to swallow and cough. The others laughed.

"Here we go….see, it's not so bad, is it?" And again his mouth was filled with foul tasting liquid. Mosca felt like retching.

"Hey, go easy on him. Are you trying to kill him?" Andrea came to his aid. "He'll drink at his own speed. Besides, think for a moment. If he stays sober, we ALL can get our fill and he wakes us up at five."

The others looked at their leader, who nodded. They released Mosca who sat up quickly and hastily moved away a bit from them.

"Excellent idea. Let the baby take over the watch."

A new round of beer was opened, another pack of cigarettes emptied and Mosca was left to his own devices. When he was sure nobody paid attention to him anymore, he fetched a candle and stood up.

From time to time he heard drunken and raucous laughter, while he was searching carefully for the wing. And then he found it. Half hidden behind a donkey from a large nativity set, the wing laid. Overjoyed Mosca caressed it and found it strange that it felt warm to his touch. He touched the donkey for comparison. It felt cold. Carefully he dripped wax on to the donkey's back and glued the candle to it. Quietly he wanted to lift the wing up and pull it closer, but he couldn't. The wing was much too heavy. He could barely lift one end of it. Puzzled Mosca laid it down again. It wasn't that big and from wood. It shouldn't be that heavy and it shouldn't feel warm. Mosca took his candle and returned to the group. Most of them were passed out from booze or pot. Leaning comfortable back against the wall, Mosca watched them. If that was their idea of having a party…..he pursed his lips. He liked the ones in the Stella much better.

Reigning his thoughts in, he focussed on the wing. It was evident he couldn't just grab it and march back to the Stella. He needed help. It was also evident he had to bring Scipio and most probably Prosper here. Together they would be able to carry it away. Feeling tired he closed his eyes. Next Saturday he would walk to the Stella to report. Scip and Prop would know what to do next. Nodding off, he snapped his eyes open again. Tiredly, he fixed his watch to ring at five in the morning. If he screwed up, there was hell to pay. The Merciful Sisters punished hard, but the boys were vicious in their revenge. He had learnt this quickly, when the Pious Francesco had faced the music. He fell asleep.

Friday evening Mosca looked up from the nature's magazine, he browsed through out of boredom to see Andrea starting to polish his shoes.

"What are you doing?"

Grinning broady Sebastiano spoke up.

"He polishes his shoes, so that he'll get his rod polished by the lovely Aurora tomorrow afternoon. " He let loose a belly deep laugh.

Andrea looked up angrily.

"Basti, you're a pig!"

"Hear him? He's got it so bad for the little slut."

"At least I don't have to resort to my best friend and his neighbour."

"At least Rightone and Lefty offer their service for free."

Andrea showed him the middle finger.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" Mosca asked Sebastiano.

"Don't know yet." Sebastiano shrugged. "Maybe steal one or two purses and splurge the money on food. Maybe go to the cinema."

"I'll go and just take a stroll. Feel free again for a little while." Mosca offered.

Sebastiano and Andrea looked at each other.

"Good joke, chocolate bunny. You won't go nowhere tomorrow. Hasn't anybody told you that you won't get out for the next six months? First you have to break off all ties to the street and your gang. You do have one, no?"

"You're joking, Andrea. Basti, Andrea's only joking, right?" Mosca was stricken. How was he supposed to get back to the Stella?

Sebastiano looked at him compassionately.

"No, he isn't. Unless you can fly over the wall or walk on water you won't get out because the Sister won't let you go for sure."

"There has to be another way out…"

"What's so urgent? There's the little back gate, but only a complete idiot would try to escape through it. Besides, it's a bit stuck. And even if you manage to open it, if you don't carry an inflatable boat on you, you better forget it. There's a wicked current, that pulls you down instantly. You don't have to try it to know. You can _see_ it. Face it, bunny, you're stuck in here."

Lost Mosca looked from one to the other and both shook their heads. How was he supposed to get in touch with the others? He looked down on his magazine. A bird with a huge beak stared back at him. And the idea was there. But would he be able to realise it?

"If…if I were to give you a note, would you pass it?"

"Sure, but that'll cost you!" Andrea spoke up.

"What?"

"It'll cost you!"

"But I don't have anything…besides, I thought you're my friend…"

"So? Friends do each other favours, don't they? I'll go out for you and you give me your gold cross for it. One favour in exchange for another."

Reflexively Mosca put his hand over his cross. His grandmother had given it to him. It was the most valuable thing he possessed and now the only thing left of his family. He couldn't give it away!

„No."

„Then no favour and no message to your friends." Andrea crossed the arms in front of his chest. "Your choice. "

Mosca looked over to Sebastiano, but he shook his head. The twelve years old bid his lips. He just couldn't do it.

"What about my watch?"

"No, your cross. Aurora will love it."

"I knew you would have to pay for her services."

"Shut up, Basti!"

"What is it now? Yes or no?" Andrea put the pressure on Mosca, who thought frantically for a solution. What if…what if he just stayed in the orphanage? Surely the others would manage somehow without the money from the Conte. Scip would find something else to steal. And Prop would sell it. Riccio and Hornet could start to pick pocket again, like before. They would manage. They would, he tried to convince himself. And it was a good life in here, more or less. He wouldn't do it. Period.

But they were his family. They relied on him. He couldn't just walk away from this. And he missed them. Terribly. All of them. From Scipio down to Bo and his little cats. They never asked for anything in return, if they did something nice for him. They were his true friends, who cared about him. Not Andrea or Basti or Luigi, who was nice enough, but defenceless against Andrea and always did what Andrea ordered him to do.Heavy hearted Mosca made up his mind.

"Alright. I'll give you my cross. First the chain and when I know you delivered the message, you'll get the cross."

"Fair enough. So, what's this message, and who gets it?"

„I'll let you know. I have to compose it first."

Andrea nodded consenting and resumed polishing his shoes. This required some careful thinking on Mosca's part. A few minutes ago, he hadn't had any second thoughts about a written note, but now he didn't trust Andrea any longer. It would have to be indecipherable for him but easy to understand for his family.

Sebastiano nudged his dorm mate, when Mosca took a pair of scissors and cut out the bird. Then he walked over to the small stack of magazine's and looked carefully at the photos in there. A smile lit up his face and carefully he began to cut one out here and there. Still, there was so much missing in his little message and he hoped he would find the right pictures and photos until the next day.

"What are you doing, Mosca?" Andrea finally asked.

"I'm composing my message."

Andrea's eyebrows rose.

"Why don't you just write it down?"

"Too dangerous. The wrong people might read it." _Like you or Annia's parents_ he added in his thoughts.

The next day Andrea stared down at the picture puzzle in his hands. A photo of a bird with a huge black beak, Mr. Spock from Star Trek, a Venetian winged lion, a photo of Angelina Jolie and a picture of Caesar and another picture of Mr. Spock connected to a clock without fingers.

"What's this?"

„My message." Mosca answered, confident that his friends would grasp its meaning.

„Here's the chain. Bring the message to Fondamenta Victor Emanuele 18 on La Giudecca. Do you know where it is? Throw it into the Venturis' letterbox. If you get caught just say you're a brother of Caterina, the friend of Annamaria and that this is a kind of stupid game between your sister and Annamaria. And grumble a bit about being misused as postman. But don't overdo it."

Andrea nodded and left. Mosca leant back in his chair. In a few days time he was out of here with the wing. It was just a pity that he would miss Prop's birthday in the meantime.

_To be continued…._


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

A white racing boat inched slowly along the old wall that surrounded the orphanage. It wasn't there for the first time. An attentive observer would have noticed it the day before. And he would have also noticed how intently its passengers had stared at the wall, the small gate and the rings boats could be tied to.

Scipio and Prosper shivered in their black clothes and black masks although Venetian nights in May were warm. They had understood Mosca's message for this Star family. _"Scip and Prop are to come to the orphanage with the "Angelina" to take the wing with them on the night of May, 15__th__ at midnight."_ They had argued a bit about the date, but finally Hornet had decided, that it was more about the day of Caesar's death and not its month. And often enough they had made fun of Prosper's name that was integral to the Vulcan greeting "live long and prosper" and the fact that he had been born precisely at midnight.

Scipio cut off the engine and the last feet the boat was pulled by the strong current. Scipio and Prosper stood up and tied it to the wall at both ends and sat down again. They had stopped precisely in front of the small iron gate.

"I'm not feeling too well." Prosper said quietly.

"Me neither." Scipio answered monotone.

„I don't believe that we...that _I'm_ actually going to do this."

Scipio didn't answer.

"What time is it?" Prosper asked after a while.

"Midnight."

They could hear the wind and the water. And footsteps that came closer behind the wall.

"Thief Lord?" Mosca whispered.

"We're here." Scip whispered back.

"Good. I knew you would understand my message. Help me to open the gate. It's old and stuck. We have to hurry. I'm not sure, if I'm not being followed."

With a screech and a grate that thundered in the boys' ears the gate gave up its resistance and opened slowly.

"Mosca! We were so worried about you." The elder boys wanted to embrace their friend and brother, but he stepped back.

"Later! We don't have time for this now. I just want to get home." He led them to the entrance of the big building.

"It's upstairs on the attic." Mosca explained whispering.

They flitted up the stairs. Somewhere further below a step creaked and they froze and only moved again, when they were convinced that it was just the old house and its nightly noises.

"The lock's weak. I brought a pair of scissors. We should be able to break the door open with it. Don't be alarmed, when you enter. It's only broken statues."

He warned them. Scipio took the scissors out of Mosca's hands and the lock broke after a hard turn. Gasping they stared at the statues illuminated by Prosper's flashlight.

"Come on, now. It's over there. It's too heavy for me."

And a few seconds later they stared down at the wing.

"Prop, push the donkey away." Scipio ordered and groaned, when he tried to lift the wing.

"What the devil?! What's this? Lead?" Scipio asked surprised and straightened up a bit.

„See? And it's warm, too. Feel it." Mosca affirmed. Scipio pulled off his black leather gloves to touch it.

"Indeed. Well, we can wonder about this later. Prop, help me."

Groaning the boys tried to lift it up once more.

„Try harder, Prop!" Scip panted.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Prop moaned back and with a last concerted effort they managed to lift it up. They held the wing in their arms and suddenly it felt much lighter just like an ordinary wing made from wood. They looked at each other and each pair of eyes reflected wary surprise.

"Something's very wrong with this thing." Scip voiced his concerns.

"Who cares?" Prop shot back. "Let's get out of here. Mosca, lead the way."

In single file they left the attic and jumped, when there was suddenly a flashlight ghosting below on the staircase. It seemed to climb up the stairs.

"Back in there!" Mosca panicked.

"What are we going to do?" Prosper whispered afraid. He heard Mona's words of the night she had broken up with him in the back of his head.

"Is there any other way down?" Scipio tried to assess the situation

"No!"

Scipio closed his eyes for a moment, frantically searching his mind for a way out, while they were hiding behind the statues. They waited with baited breath for the door to open, which it did eventually and the light fell into the room in a small streak. Mosca's eyes widened, when he could see the boy behind the light – Sebastiano.

Breathless they watched how the other boy made his way across the room towards them, quietly whistling under his breath. And they could only do so much to suppress a gasp, when Sebastiano stepped up to the statue of a Saint that carried a large book, which he took unceremoniously out of its hands and knelt down. A faint click and the book sprang open. The light fell onto a large black velvet pouch laying in a cavity. Sebastiano took it out of the book and removed a glittering object from his pocket. Lovingly he caressed the massive gold chain and its big emerald choker before he crammed it into the pouch.

"Good night, my beautiful darlings." He whispered. "You're safe here until the day I can safely sell you." He giggled and put back the velvet pouch that looked now even heavier than before. Sebastiano shut the book with a snap, put it back into the hands of the Saint and left with a new spring in his step the attic. The boys remaining behind heard the door being locked behind Sebastiano.

Silence.

"Wicked!" Mosca whispered after a while.

"Yeah." Scipio echoed.

"A true thief lord." Prosper whistled.

"Come on, let's have a look." Mosca urged exited and was already pulling out the book from under the Saint's hands.

"How does this thing open?" Mosca felt for a spring and there it was. He pressed and the book opened again. He pulled out the pouch and let its content spill out onto the floor. The boys eyes got HUGE, when they looked down onto the copious glittering finery.

"Man, is that real?" Mosca asked awed by the precious looking jewels that glittered under Prosper's flashlight.

Speechless Scipio nodded.

"I…."his voice croaked. "I recognise the necklace with the diamonds and the rubies. The contessa Pisani owns it. Marlena has raved about it for two days after the contessa had worn it for a party in our casa some time ago."

"We're rich." Mosca whispered exited. His hands dug into the pile.

"No, we're not." Prosper objected. "We can't take this. This isn't junk from the casa."

"Why not? It's a lot more worth than the wing." Mosca rebelled.

"Prop's right. This is hot stuff. Police and insurance companies surely search everywhere for it and have an eye on the black market and fences. I doubt if even Barbarossa has the contacts to sell the goods. Put it back. The stuff is worthless for us."

"And let's go before we run into another strange resident." Prop propelled Scipio into action. Groaning they picked up the wing.

And a few minutes later the white racing boat cast off with Scipio, Prosper, Mosca and a strange wing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two nights later the Angelina was heading with the two sixteen years old to their meeting point in the _laguna_. As agreed the Star family had released the homer pidgeon Sophia to let their client know that they had retrieved the wing. And Barbarossa had communicated the meeting point, bursting with curiosity and running against a wall in Prosper, who wouldn't tell no matter how much the old man tried to cajole.

The family had puzzled over the fact that the wing was unnaturally warm many times and the general consensus had been to get rid of the wing as fast as possible and to pocket the money.

The wind was blowing warm and softly over the waters of the _laguna_ and caused the waiting Angelina to bob up and down in gentle movements. The cloudless night invited to dream, but the two boys had no sense for romance this very moment. They saw the lights before the engine noise drowned out the quiet pounding of the waves against the boat. And then a larger boat came to a halt next to them and Scipio recognised the face of his client. An old lady, dressed like the man in a hooded cape, stood next to him and looked down on the two boys.

„You've really got it?"

„Sure. What about the money?" Scipio answered shortly.

The old lady chimed up.

„I can hear your cultivated voice; there's no trace of the flat _Veneziano_. It's obvious; you're from a very good family. You shouldn't be forced to steal…"

"I should expect that my motives are of no concern to you."

Scipio's voice changed from this usual smooth aristocratic Italian to the flat and hard _Veneziano_, that these days was spoken mostly by simple workers and old people on the other islands of the _laguna_ and that left Prosper still totally stumped and uncomprehending.

"Ya ask'd, we deliver. An' now we wan' th' monee, ollady."

The old woman smiled amused. Who did the boy behind the bird mask try to fool? She had recognised him the moment he had pulled off his mask in the church.

"I think it's time to complete our transaction, gentlemen."

The intense green light of the portside light deformed their faces into eldritch grimaces as the couple bent a bit forward. Scipio nodded and groaning he and Prosper lifted the wing up and handed it over carefully to its new owner.

"Careful, it's extremely heavy."

"Only for those, who don't know its power."

Wide-eyed they saw how the old man took it from them and hold it over his head for a moment before he carried it a few steps like it was just a leaf of paper. They got distracted by the black bag that was given to them by the old lady.

„Your reward."

Prop took the bag and opened it quickly after a glance from Scipio. Lots of wads with blue 20 euro bills were illuminated by the lights of the boats and the moon hanging over them.

„Small bills. Good." Prosper voiced his satisfaction.

"Thief Lord, it's been a pleasure doing business with you. Your services are no longer required."

Suddenly the lights of the larger boat went out. Shadow-like it slowly departed.

„Come on, let's follow them. I want to know who they are." Scipio suggested, feeling the adrenaline rushing through his veins and tasting the sweetness of victory in his mouth. He turned on the engine and guided by the pale moonlight they followed at a comfortable speed.

But the longer they followed the larger boat in front of them, the more ill at ease Scipio became. He cut off the motor and stared intensely into the night. He looked around. Far away he could see the familiar lights of the city, the mainland and of other smaller inhabited islands like Pellestrina.

"What's wrong, Scipio? Are we lost?"

But Scipio didn't answer. He turned on the engine again and once more they followed slowly the boat that almost had almost completely vanished into the night by now. And once more Scipio turned off the engine of the Angelina to look around. Frowning he stared at the boat to estimate its heading and to compare it with his inner map of the _laguna_ and it's many islands. When he was absolutely sure where the boat was heading to, he turned the Angelina with a heading back to Venice.

„What are you doing? Why are we turning around?"

„I know where they're heading. There's no need to keep following them."

"And where are they heading to?"

„La Isola Segreta." Scipio answered with an indefinable tremble in his voice.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Back at the Stella the scene resembled that of wild life. Despite of the lateness all inhabitants of the old movie theatre gathered around their large table, eager to see what the boys had brought home. With a grand gesture Prop opened the black bag and turned it upside down. A seemingly never ending flood of money wads fell with a soft thud onto the table.

Broadly grinning Prop stepped back and sat down onto the small stage's edge next to Scipio. Harmoniously they watched like content lionesses how their litter hesitantly reached for the money like cubs might reach cautiously for the prey their mothers brought home. Never before had any of them seen so much money in a single pile, they even had had difficulties to imagine that much money. Prop was elated. It was finally over, they were alright and life as they knew it in the Stella would continue safely. Proudly he thumped his best friend – but got no reaction. In fact Scipio was unusually quiet. Prop stopped short. What was wrong with him? Why wasn't Scipio as exuberant as he? Why wasn't he already shouting for a party to celebrate their overwhelming success? Had they swapped roles somehow? Well, whatever it was that had Scipio at sixes and sevens - in fact now that Prop thought about it, his friend hadn't spoken a single word since they had changed their heading back towards the city - they had at least the money.

Cautiously Hornet inspected a wad closer.

„Smells funny somehow. Here, have a look." She threw a wad over to the boys and Scipio caught it effortless. Turning it in his hands, sniffing it he became wary. He pulled out one bill and held it up against the light of the big star on the ceiling.

„Prop, look."

He handed over the bill to Prop, who looked at him puzzled. He took the bill, felt the paper, looked at it carefully, held it up against the light, too, to search for the water mark and the silver thread woven into the paper and a deep frown wiped off all happiness in his face.

"Give me another wad." He addressed the children around the table and hopped down from the stage's edge. He pulled out another bill, followed by Scipio, who also took another wad from the table to inspect it carefully.

Over the table Prosper looked questioningly at Scipio who nodded angrily.

„Is there something wrong?" Riccio picked up the change of mood first.

„It's fake! It's all FAKE!" shouted Prop furiously. "We've been taken for fools!"

"WHAT?" Mosca was startled.

"This can't be fake stuff. We had a deal!" Riccio shouts angry.

"I'm sorry, guys." Scipio apologised as if it was somehow his fault.

"SORRY?! YOU'RE SORRY? I just spent two miserable weeks locked away. I've been subjugated to alcohol, to drugs, I've been called constantly names, I missed the birthday of a friend. And not alone that I learnt that my father is dead for several years now and nobody thought to inform my grandmother or me, on top I had to give away my grandmother's gold necklace to get a message related to you. The only connection I had left to my past and my family. AND ALL FOR NOTHING?!" Wiping away angry tears Mosca run upstairs and threw himself into his hammock, turning way from them all.

A very pale Scipio swallowed hard and said very quietly into the vacuum Mosca had left.

"That's what you get, when you make a deal with the devil."

Freaking out Prop swept all wads from the table in a grand gesture.

"I don't care about with whom we made the deal! I just broke into a house a few nights ago. Not to mention what Mosca had to go through for this! I want what's ours. We go back and demand our money."

„We won't do such thing!" Glaring at his friend Scipio cut Prop short.

"What do you mean? Certainly we will! We will go there right now!" Prop argued.

"No, we won't!" Scip argued back, getting angry now, too.

"YES, WE WILL!"

"NO, WE WON'T! We will find another solution for our money problem."

"I don't believe it. You're a bloody coward, Scipio Massimo!"

"What did you just call me?" Eyes narrowed dangerously. The others froze, shocked.

"I called you a coward." Prop challenged with arms folded in front of his chest.

Scipio breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly.

"Prop, you're my best friend, so I let this pass – once. But say it again and I will kick your ass so hard, that even Bo won't recognise you again, understood?" He stared at him hard.

"Ooh, I'm shaking in my boots." Prop mocked, too angry and disappointed to take Scip's warning seriously and needing to vent his frustration.

With a lightning quick move Scip threw Prop down onto the table with his underarm pressing painfully down onto Prop's windpipe. Prop wheezed surprised, struggling to get up, but Scipio held him down in a tight grip.

"STOP IT! Both of you! What's got into you?" Hornet tried to ply Scipio off from Prop.

"Now, if you're done acting like an idiot, I could explain to you why we WON'T go back."

Scip released Prop, who straightened up panting and pressed the surprised Scipio with an equally quick move with his upper body down onto the table, while twisting his arm around to the back. Scipio groaned, this right shoulder aching.

„Don't do that again or I kick your ass so hard that even Annia won't recognise you again, understood?" Prop gave back. "Now, what's the mysterious reason why we won't go back?"

Prop stood back and Scipio refrained from rubbing his shoulder. He shot his friend a dirty look.

"Supposed we go back there….he hasn't given us the money the first time, what makes you think he will when we stand in front of him again, hmh?

"I'll make him!" Prop answered, defiant.

„And how exactly are you going to do this? Threat him with one of those killer smiles of yours? Think for a second. Maybe they've got guns and are prepared to use them. And what's more: We're both no weaklings, and I'm not bragging here, but we almost couldn't lift the damned thing up from the floor. And the old man just lifts it as if it's a paper weight. And he didn't look as if he was a retired superman either. He told us, it's only heavy for those, who don't know its _powers_! What _powers_, Prop?! That's not natural. I think we should better be very cautious in our next steps."

"That's magic, Prop. I told you about the fisherman, who looked at me. And I saw a mermaid in the canale once." Bo jumped up and down excited.

"And I told you that's just the lights playing tricks on you, Bo. There is no such thing as magic!"

"I don't know." Hornet objected. "Maybe Scipio's right. Venice is full of stories about magic. We should be cautious here."

"Not you, too." Prop rolled his eyes.

„Perhaps we can break into another house? Perhaps Barbarossa has another contract for us?" Riccio spoke up.

„No way! The orphanage was easy enough and we almost got caught. What if Barbarossa asks us to break into a real house with a security system? What then?" Scipio objected.

"He's right. We shouldn't press our luck." Hornet agreed.

"Then it's settled. We have to get back to the island and take our chances." Prop decided.

"No."

Scipio felt desperation taking over him. What could he do to keep Prop away from the cursed island? What could he do to make Prosper understand the danger they were in? This time they got away with their fur singed. There was no knowing what they got away with the next time they met the old couple – IF they'd get away at all next time. Telling him about the cursed island in front of the others wouldn't do any good. In his current mood Prop would just declare them all insane and still go.

"Yes. Tomorrow night. They think we're too scared. Scip, either you're with me or not. But I will go there."

They needed the money to survive. There was no other option in his opinion.

"You can't. You don't have a boat."

"So I steal one."

"Prop, be reasonable. You can't steal boats." He made a last attempt to hold Prop back.

"That's a laugh coming from you, Thief Lord." Prop scathed.

Icy fear gripped his heart. Every fibre in him urged him to turn away from this, but he couldn't let Prop walk into this on his own. Alone he stood no chance. But maybe if they were together…. He felt their eyes on him, waiting for him to make up his mind, to answer Prop. Scipio felt he stood at crossroads and this was a test of what kind of mould he was cast in. Was he prepared to walk for his best friend into hell and back?

"Alright. We go. Tomorrow night. Meet me at our landing stage at eleven."

Prop nodded, slightly smiling. He had known Scipio wouldn't let him down, even if he looked pale as the moon.

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With burning eyes Prop looked into the night. City lights flickered on the horizon. But directly in front of them a dark mass rose out of the water. He just couldn't wait to confront the two-timing Conte and get his hands on real money. He bent over and turned the lever to switch off their navigation lights. Scipio stopped the engine.

"Why do you stop?" he addressed a pale Scip.

"Prop….we really shouldn't go there. This is the Isola Segreta."

"So what? You've already said that yesterday." an impatient Prop asked.

"The cursed island. No one, who ever set foot onto it returned. Not one, not ever, you hear? It's said this is the entrance to hell. The place demons wait to drag your soul down."

"You don't really believe this, do you?" Prop wasn't sure, if he should laugh or give his friend a piece of his mind. But Scipio didn't really listen.

"Fishermen who harvest clams close to the island report you sometimes can hear the hounds of hell howl. No one ever goes there, Prosper. EVER!"

"That's just stories told by superstitious people. Come on. A cursed island? That's nonsense! There is no such thing as islands being cursed. There are NO curses. Besides if the old man was really the devil, then how come that we met in a sanctified church? Hmh? No answer…? Because he's simply an old man living on an island, that just has a bad reputation."

"Is that so? I've done some research. The island once belonged to Nicolas Flamel."

"Nicolas Flamel?" Prop was sure he had heard the name before, but where? He searched his memory.

"But that's just a character in a Harry Potter book. He's not real."

"But he was! He was a real person. Long time ago. He was the most powerful alchemist ever. The legend says he was murdered by his apprentice, when he created the Elixir of Life."

"But the Elixir of Life is just a myth like the Philosopher's Stone. You can't cheat time. It's the one universal invariable constant."

Prop wiped over his face.

"Look, you don't have to come with me. Stay in the boat, if you will. But I go. I'm going to confront the bastard and I won't leave the island without our money. He owes us!"

Resolutely he reached over and turned the key. The engine sprang to life.

"Besides, the Conte and this old lady live over there. They come and go as they please. Those hounds of hell are probably just normal dogs that howl at the moon. And maybe some fishermen were close to the island when they were careless for a moment and drowned in accidents. And the story got embellished over time."

Scipio nodded and slowly his face hardened.

"Do you really think I let you go alone? We're in this together. And if they do have some dogs, we better climb over the wall and come through the backyard."

He tied his mask behind his head, straightened and became The Thief Lord.

_...to be continued on the Isola Segreta..._


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

_Comments: Will or won't they?_

A short while later the boys stood in front of another boy and two Rottweiler panted menacingly behind them, ready to lunge at them at the command of a young girl.

"Young Massimo, I presume you've come to collect your reward. "

Prop and Scip exchanged glances to see, whether they shared the same thoughts. The boy and the girl were the Conte and the old lady, but why were they suddenly children? Was this really a place of dark magic? And from where did they knew Scipio's true identity? Realising they were at the mercy of the siblings Scipio pulled off his mask.

"Alas, my young friends, although we're indeed very much indebted to you, we can't pay you back with money. By the way, the fake money was Barbarossa's idea. But we offer you something indefinitely more valuable. Let us show you something. Come along with me."

The growling dogs left them no choice but to follow the rejuvenated Conte to a contraption outside.

"Ah, I see, you recognise the wing. It took us 50 years to locate it after it had been stolen by a priest. He was clever, very clever to hide it in the one place from where we'd never be able to retrieve it – an orphanage. But don't be shy, step closer, take a good look at it. The carousel is the key to the fulfilment of your secret wishes."

Guarded Scip and Prop walked around it and discovering a small ladder they climbed up to inspect the winged lion and four other statues.

"What does it do? How can it fulfil secret wishes?" Scipio called down fascinated.

"It gives you the most precious gift there is – time. You ride it and the old get young again and children become adults….Think about it, my young friends." The voice of the Conte turned hypnotic.

"How often adults haven't taken you seriously, just because you are children? How often have you been simply ignored by them? How often doors have been kept shut because you are too young? How often have you been pushed and shoved around? How often have you heard _no_ because of your age? Ride the carousel and no one will ever discard your opinion again or say _no_! Ride the carousel and become adults! …Yes, mount the sea-horse….You can feel the magic…."

To become an adult….indeed, his most secret wish! Scipio smiled as he sat onto the wood statue. Finally he would see eye to eye with this father. Maybe he would even be taller than him? He could hurl all his hate and humiliation back into his face. He would be free to go away and never he would look back….He would never look back and loose everything that meant something to him – his friends and true family. Surely he would loose Annia, who liked, even loved the sixteen years old Scipio. But would she or the others still like an adult Scipio? Or would _he_ loose interest in them, because they would remain children with child-like interests and thoughts, whereas he changed perspective? Life was good as it was now. He felt truly and completely happy for the first time in his life. Why should he give it up?

"I guess I'll grow up another day." He dismounted.

Dreamily Prosper caressed the Neptune. The wood felt warm to this touch and vibrant as if it was soaked with secret life. This was the solution to all his problems! He'd become an adult and no one would ever be able to take Bo away from him. This was easy, so easy….maybe too easy? By running away with Bo he had learnt his lesson the hard way. His problems now would vanish, but a whole bunch of new ones surely wouldn't make life any easier for them. Besides, hadn't it been Bo's wish to be with his_ brother_ what had prompted him to run away in the first place? By riding the carousel he would turn into a _father_ for Bo. How could he even contemplate this? No, there had to be another way. Prosper stepped back and heard from afar Scipio decline the offer.

"Va bene…" sighed Renzo as he watched them climb down again.

"Not many have refused an offer like this. As we grow older we pile regrets and the wish to relive your life becomes more powerful with every regret. Some long for the strong body or beauty they once had. Others long to give at a specific point in time their life another direction, the desire to start over again. And some aren't simply ready to leave the world, when there is still so much to come. And still others are just terrified to die, because they fear what will come after death. And so many young can't wait to become adults to be granted the so-called big freedom." He addressed them.

"Their body gets older, but they don't become wiser." Morosina spoke up.

"No, I guess not." Answered Scipio recalling the long talk under the trees with his mother.

"Trust me, my young friends. Tonight you've taken a large step towards adulthood. You realised that by becoming an adult, you are granted the rights you can only dream of now, but they come with duties and responsibilities and these can outweigh all freedom and rights."

Renzo reached up to pet their shoulders. Prop had to grin. It was really strange to hear a younger and smaller boy addressing them in this manner.

"Nicolas Flamel built this, didn't he? This is the Elixir of Life." Scipio voiced his thoughts.

"Ah, not only a thief, but a scholar, too. Yes, yes, indeed. When the old master discovered the secret of eternal life, he was afraid that people would try to steal it from him and abuse its power. So he brought the carousel down here from Paris and faked his and his wife Pernelle's death. And here the carousel outlasted the centuries under the care of the master himself. But living such a long life made the old couple very sad. The centuries flew by and mankind was still as it had been. They watched sciences advance and knowledge spread, but they didn't change people to the better. One day a long time ago a pair of siblings stranded on this island, half drowned and half starved to death. The old couple took the children in and raised them as their own. And then the Great War came and it broke their hearts to see so many lives wasted over insignificant ideas and illusions of grandeur."

"The Great War?" Prop was puzzled.

"The First World War. Back then we didn't know another was to come. So it was called the Great War." The Conte answered melancholic.

"We?" Scipio immediately grasped the implication.

"Yes, we are the children Nicolas and Pernelle took in. One day they decided not to ride the carousel again overcome by grief for the world. The great alchemist died in 1917 peacefully in his sleep and Pernelle followed a short time later. We are the guardians of his heritage."

"Wow!" mouthed Prosper. This was unbelievable. "Why the Elixir of Life? Why not the Carousel of Life?" he asked curiously.

"When Nicolas discovered the secret, France was right in the middle of Hundred Year's War with England. And the climate began to slowly turn noticeable colder. You know Europe grew considerably colder in what's called nowadays the Small Ice Age. _Green_land iced over. People in France were poor beyond any imagination. Crop failures caused famines and every day so many starved. The country was financially and economically run down by war, by fiscal mismanagement and by nature. Food and pure water were more valuable than gold, silver or jewels."

"And so people learning of Flamel's secret naturally assumed it was an elixir - something to drink or eat - to give it the magnitude it deserves." Scipio concluded.

Morosina nodded approvingly. Her eyes shone, when she looked at him.

"And what happens now? Will you just let us go with the knowledge of a secret like this?" Prop voiced a gnawing fear.

The siblings smiled friendly.

"Yes, we will. You proved to be worthy of the secret by not abusing its power."

"But we still don't have any money." Prop protested yet relieved.

"We're going to find another way, Prop. And when push comes to shove I pluck the grand heirloom silver for you to sell to Barbarossa. Violetta hates cleaning it anyway."

Despite of everything Prosper had to laugh.

"You know, the old scoundrel doesn't look too well these days. Must be getting old. He ought to have an assistant – an honest thief." Renzo winked.

"You are a devious one, my _old_ friend." Scipio smiled appreciatively.

"And you are one of the finest of your great family, young Massimo." Morosina returned the compliment.

"How do you know me anyway?" asked Scipio the girl.

She smiled melancholic.

"Because you take so much after your great-great-grandfather Alessandro, when he sat with me in his sailing boat at sunset. But unfortunately times were as they were."

"Scip, this must be the dumbest face you ever made!" laughed Prosper.

"Well, it's not every day you meet your own almost great-great-grandmother." He burst out laughing after a short moment. "You know, it really is like I told Annia a couple of days before…it all stays in the family."

"Come now, it's time to go. Your friends will be worried for you."

"And what about you?" Prop asked concerned.

"Oh, we'll get by. It's really not that hard to turn metal into gold, when you know the secret and have time. Lots of time."

At the landing stage the boys jumped into the boat.

"Say hello from time to time. And feel free to use our very much secluded beach whenever you feel like, when you wish for some privacy in warm nights, when the full moon hangs over the _laguna_…" Renzo smiled naughtily. "I do still remember how it felt to be sixteen."

"Don't put any ideas into their heads!" Morosina admonished her brother. "Have a safe trip back."

"Will do, grandma." Scipio winked and grinned broadly.

"Oh, you!" She laughed. "You're even as saucy as Alessandro."

She rose her finger to scold the dark-haired boy, which looked really strange in a way.

_To be continued….._


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

When the little bell over the door chimed, Barbarossa turned away from his customers with a welcoming smile to greet a new one. But his smile fell and his eyes widened, when a brunette, maybe sixteen years old, clad in a red t-shirt and faded jeans and trainers entered, followed by a dark haired youngster, whose age was hard to estimate, because he was wearing a bird mask, which covered half of his face, a white t-shirt blatantly stating _"Thief Lord"_ and black jeans and trainers, too.

The couple next to him frowned and hastily Barbarossa shooed them into the small part of the shop that served as an office with the usual admonition not to touch anything. A couple of minutes later the bell chimed again and Barbarossa waddled into his office, where he found his _friends_ waiting patiently for him. His face darkened considerably to an unhealthy shade of red, when he saw that they hadn't taken their allocated seats, but occupied the space behind his desk. The brunette German sat lazily in Barbarossa's chair with his feet casually propped upon the desk, twiddling his thumbs. The other youngster leant against an antic cabinet and cleaned with a silver letter opener, that had laid incidentally once in a desk drawer in a guest room at the casa Massimo, his impeccably manicured finger nails, emanating the air of indifference and ennui.

„You owe us money, Barbarossa." Prop opened the conversation amicably.

"I owe you nothing. I'm only the go-between. If the old man doesn't pay his debts, it's not my problem. Now get out of my chair!"

"It's yours, believe me, old man. It's yours. You see, our friends aren't happy and you're the next one in the chain. And you will give us the money – Euro by Euro and you will even be glad that you'll give it away to us. I'm going to work here five days a week, halfdays in the afternoons after school."

Barbarossa snorted and glared at Prop, who wasn't in the least about to get out of Barbarossa's chair.

"As I said I'll work here after school not to draw unwanted attention to me. My salary will be ten Euros by hour plus five percent of your profit of the goods I sell."

"Are you mad, boy?"

Scip tutted.

„If I were you, old man, I'd be a lot nicer to my right hand."

He played with the letter opener as if it was a knife. And the cold stare behind the mask only strengthened the impression of danger.

"Are you trying to threat me in my own shop?" Barbarossa turned even a shade darker.

"No, it's just a friendly advice, since we've been friends for so long."

"Now listen to me, both of you. I'm not going to hire the _tedesco_ and I certainly won't throw away good money. Five percent of my meagre profit! Ten Euros the hour! That's a laugh. No, it's not a laugh, it's not even an offence, it's highway robbery. You're worse than the_finanza_. You'll strip me off my last shirt, make me starve to death. I won't make any profit at all!" Barbarossa pulled out a handkerchief to wipe of the sweat of his front head. He breathed heavily.

„Easy, old man. We don't want you to have a coronary. See, you need badly help. The stress is getting to you and you don't get any younger with every passing day. Besides and let's put it plainly. This shop is a fraud. The real money comes from your receiving. Now, what is it? Hire my right hand or I'll have the police pay you a visit and then you'll get proper treatment in the prison hospital."

„Never bite the hand that feeds you, boy." Barbarossa narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"Who says your hand is the only one, Barbarossa? Remember the break at the Palazzo Pisani? Or the Messina earrings?…"

"You!???! Where are they?" Greed let the old man's eyes sparkle. Forgotten were heart trouble and asthma.

"This takes people with very deep pockets, lots of patience and the right contacts before they offer on the market. You have neither, old man."

"You don't say, Thief Lord."

"No, Barbarossa. I know to whom you sell our stuff. And I know where it goes from there. And I know what's in for you. This is too big for you and you know it, too. So don't try to play me for a fool. Now that we have established who's top dog here, my _tedesco's_ proposal to let you pay off your debts with us is settled. Which is very fair after all, but let's say we're in a generous mood today."

Prop smiled as he heard his friend quote back Barbarossa. And with a last grand gesture Scipio threw the letter opener down onto the table. Right between Barbarossa's hands it skidded to a halt.

"See you, old man." And the bell announced that the Thief Lord had left the little stop. Silently Prop and Barbarossa looked at each other taxing.

"So…"

The bell chimed again. Barbarossa turned around to greet his customers. But Prop shot up from the chair and pushed the old man gently aside.

"Pardon me, I think I have customers."

Heavily Barbarossa fell into his chair, still warm from the youth's heat. His breath was laboured and he opened a drawer to take out his asthma spray. Maybe it wasn't so bad that the boy would help a little bit. With one ear he heard them chatting in German and a little while later the bell chimed again and the customers left with a big plastic bag full of Venetian souvenirs. Maybe it wasn't bad at all….He began to smile like a Cheshire cat as new prospects visualised in front of his inner eyes.

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And with the passing weeks and nearing summer, the Stella was buzzing with activities and a steady flow of money coming in lessened the pressure on Scipio's shoulders, who in turn concentrated more on his fencing and the upcoming tournament in July before summer holidays.

One weekend in June Annia had gone by train with Riccio to Florence to visit her sister and her boyfriend to have his teeth fixed. Her sister somewhat privy of what was going on with her baby sister in Venice had bought three pre-paid card _telefoninos_ for the gang for emergency cases –one for Scipio, one for Prosper and the third one was shared by the rest of the gang and taken with them whenever one of them or the group left the Stella without Prop or Scip.

Hornet and Bo had visited frequently the playgrounds to scout for stressed out looking mothers and fathers and had finally found three couples who were just too happy to have found a girl that could go along well with their children to ask annoying questions like were Hornet lived or who her parents were. They had just to call a specific number and either the girl herself or one of her brothers answered. And the good impression the girl had made was confirmed each time when either of her two elder brothers waited at the landing stage for her, when she was brought home or picked her up at the respective houses late in the evenings to escort her home.

Mosca and Riccio had started to lend a helping hand at the central market early in the mornings before school time and soon enough the marketeers relied on their presence to help out and began to pay them in goods like fresh fruits, vegetables, fish and meat, which they brought home to the Stella.

And the schooling continued. Annia had even managed to lure Riccio back to the books and with her patience and aptitude he slowly managed to bring some order into the jumbled letters.

_ to be continued _


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

_Worlds collide... _

In his locker room Scipio went through the motions of warming up his muscles, which served at the same time to empty his head off all thoughts non-related to the most important fight of his life. He forgot about the fact that in a few days time with the start of his summer holidays he wouldn't be able to see neither Annia nor his friends for two months and that he would run away from his home and hide at Grandma and Renzo.

The plan had been settled the moment his father had announced that this year, indeed, his uncle would pick him up and take him to his mercenaries trainings camp as preparation for San Martino. Back then Scipio had become pale and his knees had started trembling, when childhood memories had resurfaced from deep below and created the same havoc the real experience had had when he had been only four. He still could see his uncle Cesare in his uniform, parading a squad of young men, listening unmoved to him in military stance. Even their eyes didn't follow him. They just stood there with opened legs, arms folded behind their backs and eyes starring into the nothing in front of them as they listened to his welcome speech. And he had seen in the course of the weeks he had spent there, how tall and strong men, who had looked indestructible, had crumbled down to his uncle's feet and begged for mercy with tear streaked faces, how they had been sometimes so exhausted that their comrades, close to collapse themselves had to carry them back to their tents. And it had been such a traumatic experience for the young boy that it had shut him up. He had tried to make himself invisible and make his uncle forget he existed by giving him no reason to direct his attention to him, by doing everything his uncle demanded of him.

He straightened up, when he felt his muscles loose and warm, ready to jump into action any second. His head was empty but for one thought – to win.

He heard knocking and the calling to step out. The time had come. In the hall he met the 17 years old Christiano Quaetani, champion in 2002 and 2003. Scipio knew he would do everything to win the third time in a row and score a new record before he moved up to the next age group in the league.

They didn't look at each other, didn't greet each other, but marched silently towards the gym that was packed up to the last seat.

Due to the overwhelming success of "Pirates of the Caribbean" fencing had becoming the new favourite sports and the fans hoped to see as spectacular fights as Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom had shown in the movie. This hope hadn't been fulfilled, but still the hype had generated stars for the Venetian fandom. Stars like the champion Christiano Quaetani and Scipio Massimo.

Both entered the gym and mad applause greeted them. While Christiano was accepting the ovations as a matter of course, Scipio smiled broadly, spread his arms, in one hand his facial protection, in the other his epee and bowed gracefully before he waved up to the spectators who waved back. Encouraging shouts for both of them could be heard before the referee put an end to it and motioned to Scipio and Christiano to step up to him.

The opponents dressed in their white protective gear stood close to each other, but not too close, and listened to the referee admonishing them to fight fair.

Scipio, who had entered the tournament as underdog had risen to a charismatic shooting star with every fight he had won, displaying fairness, grace, a lion's heart, skill and a good sense of humour. His good looks also hadn't hurt his case. Christiano felt, it would be good to have the spectators in his corner from the psychological point of view.

"Hey, Massimo, try not to disappoint your daddy for a change?" Christiano tried to unnerve his foe and make him look ridiculous and weak.

But Scipio only looked at him blandly before he bent over to him a bit.

"Might be worth loosing, Quaetani." He whispered. "I hear your sister gives good _consolation_." He gave a cursory yet poignant glance at the nether regions of his opponent.

"You bastard!" roared Christiano and tried to lunge at the other boy but was jerked back by the wire-rope that was already hooked at his back. He barely managed to keep his balance as he ungracefully stumbled backwards. Here and there laughter erupted. The referee scolded Christiano with harsh words to behave himself like a gentleman. Scipio smirked before he marked one up on an invisible chalk board.

He got into position, mockingly he rose his epee to his face to greet his foe in the old manner before he glanced over to his coach, who nodded encouragingly.

"May the best man win." The referee announced.

They put on their facial protections. Full concentration replaced any smiles or frowns.

Right from the start it turned out to be one fierce fight, which kept the spectators on the edge of their seats. In a way this was even better than the movie fights. These moves weren't carefully choreographed and trained over and over again. This was real life. Both opponents were highly skilled, showed lightning quick reflexes and an equal determination to win. The audience followed their every move, listening breathless for every beep when one was hit.

Especially one man in the back close to the exit couldn't take his eyes off of the fight. Lorenzo felt a surge of pride that grew with every hit his son inflicted upon his opponent. Maybe the time had finally come, when Scipio stood up and fought back, he hoped with all of his heart.

And then time dropped down to mere seconds. The gym crackled with suspension and anticipation. Fingernails were dug into handkerchiefs, jackets, handbags, palms and thighs and occasionally the neighbour's underarm. The crowd held collectively their breath. There! A particularly vicious attack forced Scipio to retreat, but then he dived under Christiano's epee in a spectacular and impossible move and managed to hit him at his right foot. A beep indicated the validity of this hit and was drowned out by the clock.

Time was over and the new Fencing Champion of the Veneto in 2004 was Scipio Massimo with a lead of one hit.

Electricity discharged, people jumped up from their seats. The gym resembled a boiling pot. Scipio ripped of his facial protection and his arm shot up in the eternal victory pose and jumped up high. He whooped overjoyed. His coach lunged at him to lift him up into the air, shouting he had known all the time Scipio could make it. Looking up to where his gang had been seated faithfully during every fight, Scipio saw them clapping madly and shouting. Annia sent him kisses and indicated she would give him one hell of a hug later and make his victory only sweeter. Little Bo tried unsuccessfully to push through the crowd to get to him. Teenage girls close to fainting screamed exited, younger boys had a new idol and tried to remember every step and move to copy him later, and others simply thought he was one really cool guy. The looser stood alone and forgotten for the moment. Disappointment and fury were etched into his face.

Lorenzo felt happy and close to bursting with pride. His son! Just now he observed through the sea of heads and bodies how he sent with a broad grin a kiss up to the upper tiers. Lorenzo tried to follow its direction and for a moment the sea parted and he managed to catch a glimpse of a good-looking beaming brunette boy waving madly back down. He felt sucker-punched. He didn't hear his assistant answering the call he had placed to make him order a table at the finest restaurant of Venice to celebrate later. Absent-minded he pushed the red button to disconnect. His only son….he couldn't….he wouldn't…with a _boy_? But probably he was just sending a kiss into the faceless crowd to thank for their support. The crowd in front of him quieted down and sat down again. The MC stepped forward and handed the small trophy over to the sweaty but happy Scipio and declared him officially champion. Lorenzo dropped his head. What should have been one of his most happy moments in life, was tarnished by ugly doubts. He held back until the crowd had left the gym and made his way to the locker rooms. On his way he passed the young Quaetani, who hung his head and managed to see how a male shadow slipped into the locker room of his son. Standing in front of the door, he could hear muffled voices. His son and another voice that had a foreign accent that reminded him of German. He paused to listen in.

„...thought, we'd go and stay the night on the beach. Have a campfire and celebrate. What do you think?"

Lorenzo pressed his ear against the wood, but couldn't understand his son's answer. Soft laughter could be heard from the _tedesco_.

"You were fantastic, Scipio! You had me sitting at the edge of my seat, close to a heart attack. I'm so proud of you! You did it! There was never a doubt in my mind that you wouldn't make it."

Lorenzo opened the unlocked door and he heard his son clearly now.

"I wanted it, so I did it."

Taking in the sight he froze. Besides the bench stood his son clad only in a loosely knotted towel around the hips and another towel in his hand he had obviously used to dry his hair. Drops clung to his body. And close to him stood another boy, the very boy he had seen his son sending a kiss up to. His hand lay comfortable on his son's naked shoulder. Both shared a smile, but twirled around, when they saw him. They dropped their smiles and fear and guilt appeared on their faces like Lorenzo interpreted the emotions he read in their faces.

_to be continued...when the stars of the entire Universe rearrange themselves for a father... _


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Scipio suggested Prosper with a glance that he'd better leave. Prop nodded and gave his friend a last pat. He told him in German he would stay outside, if Scipio needed him…..But Scipio shook his head and replied slowly while searching for the right words he should just go and take the others with him. He would meet up with them later at the Stella. Prop nodded.

Lorenzo frowned. What had they just agreed on? Since when did his son speak German? The handsome boy passed him and nodded in acknowledgement. Lorenzo gave him a hard stare which was answered by an unimpressed stare back.

Father and son looked at each other silently, until Scipio turned around and began to dry himself. The towel fell down and unselfconsciously Scipio began to dress, ignoring his father. Lorenzo draw in a sharp breath. Amazed he looked at the young man in front of him. Pride washed over him. Christina and he had produced this beautiful work of art. Appreciating the sight he followed Scipio's moves. Skin stretched over well developed muscles as Scipio pulled on his briefs over pale moonlight coloured flesh, well-defined by tan lines. When Scipio raised first one arm then the other to coat his armpits with antiperspirant Lorenzo caught a glance of smooth skin. The adequately thick bush of pubic hair for a sixteen years old male suggested that his son shaved his armpits in an act of vanity. This belief was corroborated when Scipio pulled a little flacon out of his toilet bag and sprayed a bit on his throat and chest. A fresh lemony yet musky scent wafted over to Lorenzo. Without speaking Scipio pulled on a light blue coloured t-shirt, put on a pair of socks and slipped into a pair of black jeans, tucked in his t-shirt, adjusted himself discretely, zipped up the fly, closed the button and his black leather belt. One foot after the other was pulled up to come to a rest on the low bench while Scipio was tying his shoelaces. He straightened again and walked a few steps over to a small mirror at the wall to comb his hair.. A shook of his head and the expensive hair cut showed its value by making his hair fall into place on its own. A dab of hair gel assisted where nature behaved unruly Carefully Scipio adjusted one or two strands in the mirror and after a last check stepped back. His hair would dry on its own. Towels, protective gear and the zipped toilet bag were thrown into the sports-bag and the trophy was carefully laid on top. He closed the sports-bag and picked it up to throw it over his shoulder and carefully took his epee. He walked up to his father, who was still standing silently by the door.

"Was there something you wanted, father?"

He met his fathers eyes without fear and meekness. Lorenzo was a bit disconcerted and felt unusual shy towards him. When had his son grown? He reached his chin now.

"I thought we could have dinner at the Lion's Club tonight to celebrate your success."

"I'm sorry, but I have already other plans. Perhaps another time?"

Scipio grasped the door handle without waiting for a reply and opened the door.

"Sure." He heard his father from behind.

Scipio nodded and left his father standing in an empty locker room staring at the door he had gone through. Lorenzo felt numb. What had just happened? He had been so proud of his son. He had waited years and years for the moment he could take his son into his arms, kiss him and tell him how proud of him he was and how much he loved him. Now that moment had come… and passed. His arms were hanging limply from his shoulders and the phantom pain of emptiness made them ache. And the words hadn't found their way out. Why hadn't he been able to communicate with this son? Why had he just stood there and let him go? This was such an extraordinary moment in his son's life and he had just turned away from his father. He hadn't been needed in here Lorenzo realised painfully. His son didn't need him anymore. Memories of a chubby little boy running at full speed at him to show him proudly a drawing of his own work showing a boat in front of a city floating on water ghosted in front of his eyes. And what had he told the little fellow? To go away and show his drawing to his mommy. He hadn't had time for him back then. Now it seemed as if Scipio hadn't time for him anymore. And yet, with a small smile Lorenzo pushed the personal pain aside and acknowledged that his son had contradicted his father for the first time, disobeyed his wishes and did what he wanted. Was this the first signs of Scipio rebelling and emancipating himself from his father? How should he handle this? And who had been the other boy anyway? Was he the reason for Scipio's new self-confidence? Was this a good sign and worth supporting or should he squash this friendship as quickly as possible?

Lorenzo stepped out of the locker room and saw how his son was held up by a pretty young girl. They exchanged words and the hope in her face was crushed as Scipio shook his head. He touched her arm for a second and then turned away. Lorenzo followed him slowly. At the entrance he pulled on his sun glasses and stopped rooted to the spot, when he saw his son stepping towards the boy from earlier, who was leaning comfortably against the wall in the shadows with his feet crossed and a welcoming smile on his face.

"What are you doing still here?" Scipio smiled.

"Did you really think I let you alone with him? Have you seen your father's face? I wouldn't want to know what he thought when he caught us."

"Probably who the hell is this and what's his business touching my naked son."

He winked at Prosper and his friend's mouth dropped open.

"You can't be serious!"

"Sure I am. I told you before he wonders which way I swing."

"Well, then he obviously never saw you with Annia in the Parco di Remembranza on your ancestor's monument snogging like there's no tomorrow. You know, I wonder what Freud would make out of it. You sitting on a jig boom, that could be interpreted as a gigantic phallus, kissing a girl." Prop grinned.

"Performance anxiety? Pipe dream? Overcompensation for nature's shortcomings?" Scipio laughed.

"Nah, not you." Prop complimented.

"What's your business anyway, strolling at night in the park when you should be tucked in at the Stella?"

"Getting even with you, my dear friend."

"Did you spy on us? Don't tell me you got jealous. Don't worry. You're still my one and only Best Friend."

"Git!" Prosper laughed and turned more serious. "No, actually we like it there, too. Venice has so little green and I go there with Mona for a little romantic atmosphere and back earlier in the year for some star gazing. And what are you doing there beside the obvious?"

"The parco and its monument is very important for us. We fell in love there. It's been a long time since we did something on our own. Say, how about just we four go to Grandma and Renzo any time soon to finally inaugurate the beach? Have a night swim?"

"Sounds great. Let me talk to Mona about this."

Scipio nodded. He would have to talk to his girlfriend as well. This needed some careful timing and planning on their part. Annia couldn't spend too many weekends "with her sister Annateresa in Florence" without her parents thinking it odd. And for Mona it was even more difficult, if not impossible, to get away for an entire night, because her curfew started at nine-thirty and that didn't call exactly for night swimming.

"Don't you ever get tired of all this planning and plotting we have to do to be able to do things that come naturally for other couples?" Prosper asked thoughtfully.

"Yes, sometimes. I'd love nothing more than to ring Annia's door bell and pick her up for the movies for instance or for ice cream at Florini's. But we can't be together openly. And with you and Mona it's the same for different reasons."

The boys sighed simultaneously and then laughed.

"Damn it all to hell, but it's worth the trouble." Prop swore.

"Talk about fighting for your love." Scipio nodded.

"Speaking of love: I see your father over there. What did he want anyway?"

Scipio shrugged.

"He hasn't said a word, what really surprises me. I was already leaving, when he eventually asked me for dinner tonight."

Prop's face fell.

"But what about our plans for tonight? The others are already on their way to the Stella to prepare the food and stuff."

"I told him I had other plans. And what's even more surprising, he just took it. So I will be there with the boat at our landing stage."

"Great!" Prop smiled.

"Stop smiling so much at me. Otherwise my father really starts believing you're my lover."

"Well, at least that would solve your problem with Annia's doorbell. Her mother couldn't exactly object to you seeing each other, if the male friend of her daughter has the hots for boys." Prosper joked and was alarmed, when Scipio's eyes narrowed and started glittering.

"OH NO! Forget about it! NO FREAKING WAY! NEVER EVER! Not in a million years! NO! You must be totally out of your mind!"

"But that's the perfect solution, Prop! Think about it. Besides, who wanted to seal our friendship with a kiss?" Scipio grinned sure of victory.

"I knew it would come back some day to haunt me…What if the plan backfires?" Prop was slowly crumbling under Scip's pleading eyes.

"It won't. And if it really does, then at least I have my revenge on my father for him messing with my mind as long as I can think back. High time to turn the tables and mess with his. Come on, Prop. Please! Do it for our friendship..." Scipio pushed a wild strand of hair out of Prop's face that a sudden gust of wind had blown into.

"You know, if you wear your hair even longer you'd be a real cute girl."

"You know it doesn't help your case teasing me right now. Remember, it's you who wants me not the other way round. So you'd better be extra nice to me." Smiling he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I'll be as nice as you want me to be." Scip tapped Prop's nose flirtingly. Involuntarily Prosper had to laugh.

"OH HELL! Okay, okay, you win. I'll do it. But I WON'T kiss you! Just for the record: this is your haywire plan. And I officially declare you insane."

"Point taken. But just for the record: It was your idea first. And nobody's talking of kissing."

"It was meant as a joke! I must be an even bigger crackpot than you to concede." Prosper sighed resigned. "The things I do for you..."

"Thank you, Prosper. I really appreciate it. And Prop, you know, I really don't have the hots for you, do you?" He looked sincerely into his friends eyes.

"I know, Scipio. Otherwise I wouldn't even dream of complying. And I'm not after your ass either."

"Good. Then that's established. Not that it was needed anyway. Is my father still giving a good impression of Lot's wife?"

Prop looked discretely into Lorenzo's direction.

"Sure he is. What is he waiting for?"

"Proof of his theory."

"So what are we going to do? We have to be careful. It wouldn't be good, if this was to spread around. God, I don't believe it. We're playing with fire."

"That's what makes life exiting. Walking on the edge." Scipio smiled roguishly.

"Give me your bag or your epee."

"What for?"

"Well, you can't exactly get cosy with someone when you have your hands full of other stuff."

"I love how your minds works…." Scipio handed his epee over. "And now?" Despite of this being his plan, Scipio was at a loss for a moment.

"And now, lover, we tilt the axis of your father's Universe."

_To be continued…._


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Comments: sorry it took so long, but I was busy writing chapters further down the long and winding road….

Prosper uncrossed his feet, straightened up and stepped closer to his friend and led him away from the shady wall into the sunlight by putting a hand on the small of his back. And as soon as they were in plain sunlight and perfect sight of Lorenzo he moved his arm even lower and shoved his hand into Scipio's back-pocket. Scipio gave a quiet yelp but relaxed quickly and retaliated by laying his free arm around Prosper's shoulder. He smiled. Sometimes you had to coerce and cajole Prosper, but when he had come to terms with what you wanted from him, he always came through for you. There was no better friend than he. And his smile got even bigger by imagining what had to go through his father's head at the very moment.

Lorenzo felt sick and pain was flowing through his entire body. There he had his proof. His precious and only son! In the hands of a pervert! A distinguished bloodline, centuries old, would come to an end! The humiliation if this became public knowledge! This could not be! Never! Even if he owed it to the boy that Scipio came out of his shell, this price was too high! He would protect Scipio from the likes of him. Trained by years of heading a company he had learnt to ignore his feelings in a crises and think with a cool head. Not all was lost yet. Scipio was only sixteen, swamped by hormones, confused by new feelings and probably just temporarily misdirected. His face hardened. He would not allow his son to become a butterfly… He would send him to dance lessons during his summer holidays. It was high time anyway. He would take care that Scipio bumped at every corner into the most beautiful girls of the entire Veneto. He would drown in girls! One of them surely would set his head straight! And if this should fail, he would have Signora Ornella send discretely one of her girls over to initiate Scipio as last resort. Certainly, it was now out of the question that he would spend the summer at his uncle's. Being with gaggles of young men was the last thing Scipio needed.

And what immediate action should he take? Make reproaches, shout at him? Forbid his son to ever see this boy again? No, that would accomplish nothing but only have Scipio fall deeper into the abyss and go behind his father's back to be with his…_friend_. Best he let nature take its course with a bit help. An international youth camp with both genders in Switzerland would be just what his son needed to be distracted from this unhealthy _friendship_ for the time being.

Resolutely he pulled out his handy and ordered Marcello to start calling around to make enquiries about youth camps and when the summer dance school was to start and sign up Scipio for it and cancel Scipio's flight to Marseille.

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As soon as the pervert and his victim turned around a corner the boys let go of each other and burst out laughing.

"That must have smashed his universe in smithereens." Scipio held his side and had a second fit of laughter.

"I think, too, we did a good job." Prop was pleased.

"Although I had rather expected to hold hands with you."

"You cat! Andromeda must have influenced you. It's not nice to play with your prey. I prefer to go directly for the jugular. One determined slash and your victim quickly bleeds to death. It's nice, clean and merciful in a way and final. Your victim will never cause troubles again."

"Who would have thought... There are truly hidden depths to you." Scipio looked at his friend with new respect, but also very thoughtful. Not for the first time he wondered, if Prosper wasn't really the mentally and maybe even physically stronger one of the two of them. And he became again insecure.

"Only if I have to be. You don't run away with a six years old by being a cissy." Prosper answered with steel in his voice and Scipio became even more subdued for a moment. He heard his father's angry shouts in the back of his head, telling him over and over again that he wasn't worth it. That he was nothing but a disgrace to the family and that he could do nothing right – a complete and utter failure.

Was he a good enough friend for Prosper? Did Prosper need him like he needed him? Or was he just a tag along for his friend(s), now that they managed to survive without his financial help?

No, he fought against the ugly self-doubts that threatened to overwhelm him for a moment. So many months they had laid dormant, so deeply that he had believed that he had overcome them for good and that they had vanished forever. But his old friends were back and stared at him with their scornful grimaces, taunting him. NO, Prosper wouldn't have done what he had just now, if he wasn't his friend, his brother. And the gang wouldn't have accepted him as Scipio, if they had only wanted him as Thief Lord. And they wouldn't spend their time with him, if they didn't think he was worth spending time with, if they didn't _want_ to spend their time with him. And inch by inch and foot by foot he pushed insecurity and his low self-esteem back into the darkness of his soul, where they lived now and got weaker and more powerless every time he battled successfully with them.

"Does Mona know that you're a wild and dangerous animal in your deepest heart of hearts?" Scipio grinned trying to cover up his present blue state of mind.

"She doesn't call me _tiger _for nothing."

Prop grinned flattered back, but with a question in his eyes. He had seen the shadows in his friends eyes and how they gradually became bright again. As if the moon had moved between the sun and Earth and eclipsed the orange ball for a few moments. He wished he could help him, but felt that Scipio had to conquer his demons on his own to truly defeat them. He could only carry his arms and stand beside him in the line of fire, and maybe catch him, if he stumbled for a moment under their vicious onslaught. After all, even if they maybe didn't fight the same demons, he did more than his share of fighting as well

"You, too?" Scipio was surprised. He had thought only Annia called him that in their most private moments. Moments he felt like he was invincible.

"Seems to be a popular pet name with the girls. I don't mind sharing,_tiger_. At least as long as it's with you."

And Scipio had always fought for him in front line, whether the other knew or not. He picked up the fight the moment he had stepped out of the shadows and asked, if they were lost and took them under his wing and helped him carry the burden of responsibility for his life and the life of his little brother.

"Me neither, come on, let's go, _tiger_. I still have to dump my things at home before we can head for the Lido."

"Yeah, it's PARTY TIME for champions. Whoohoo!"

They looked at each other with true affection written in their faces and another brick was added to the foundation on which their friendship was built to make it someday so solid that the worst of earthquakes wouldn't be able to make it crumble or the sands of time wear it down.

to be continued...

P.S. please leave a comment when you've finished, so that I know that there is still someone reading my stuff. THANKS!


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32 

_Comments: The emperor strikes back..._

"Bo, hold your glass even, you spill the champagne. That's better. No, don't drink it yet. We have to toast to Scipio first. Riccio, hands off of the cake! We'll have it in a minute anyway. Mosca, put the camera away. It's time! Prop, could you stop putting sun lotion onto Mona's back for five seconds? Yes, thank you." Hornet was exasperated. She loved her friends dearly, but sometimes, just sometimes….

"Who wants to say a few words?" She looked at the small group, whose heads sank faster than the Titanic to inspect the sands at their feet.

"I'll do it…." Prop cleared his throat and blushed a bit when all eyes were set on him. "Ahm, Scipio, it was a damned good fight and we're all mighty proud of you... Ahm, so….here's to the fencing champion 2004, to the Thief Lord, to our hero, friend and brother….To Scipio!"

"To Scipio!" the little family echoed and plastic glasses filled with ginger ale clinked dully.

"Speech, speech, speech…" Mosca started to intonate the old incantation.

Scipio grinned.

"Can you hold it for a minute, Ann? Thanks…Now where did I put the notes for my acceptance speech…" He patted his pockets. "…I must have left it at home. Well, it was rather short anyway . Thanks, Prop, for the marvellous laudation…."

"What did you expect? It was my first speech ever…." Grumbled Prop embarrassed.

"And you did well." Mona came to his aid and praise. She glared at Scipio, who rolled his eyes amused and yet exasperated.

"It was meant serious, you two. So, thanks for the marvellous laudation and thanks to you all for preparing this little feast.. You're champions, too. And our special thanks to Riccio who has managed to keep himself from the cake. Mona, give me the knife and I cut the cake and deliver Riccio from this torture to see the cake but not eat it. The first piece is for you, dear boy."

Riccio put out his tongue at his friends and chimed into the good-natured laughter. Much later, when the sun hung low over the _laguna_they sat or laid in a half-circle around Hornet and listened attentively to her reading to them "Peter Pan". The girl loved to read to the others and to the children she babysat and had developed in short time a special reading technique, where every character even got his or her own voice.

Bo hung at her every word with open mouth, totally immersed in the story. His brother sat with his back against a palm with Mona snuggled into his arms. Mosca had closed his eyes and let the pictures Hornet created with her voice pass in front of his inner eye. Riccio nibbled on the last piece of sweet cake. And Annia laid in Scipio's arms. Absent-minded she caressed his lower arm that was slung around her waist. She didn't really listened to Hornet. The day after next they would have to say goodbye for the summer. She would spend her holidays as every year in a convent with her mother, her boyfriend was supposed to sweat in complete battle outfit under the French sun and obey his uncle's commands to get up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down…Her thoughts spun in circles. As if he had felt her drifting away Scipio tightened his arm and brought her back. Bending a bit forward he buried his nose in her hair and pressed a kiss on the back of her head before he gave a little sigh of contentment. To know that he wouldn't see her the day after next for almost two months hurt. But then was then and now was now. They would make the little time they had left worthwhile. And when she would be back, Prop and he would set their little plan in motion and then he and Annia could be together, whenever they wanted and their busy schedules permitted it. Before he could loose himself in another steamy fantasy of the two of them he focussed on Hornet's narration.

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Shimmering heat laid like a blanket made from lead over the North Italian lowlands. A grey-black snake cut through the a tad too dry landscape and touched larger cities and smaller towns. A never-ending avalanche of cars rode it. Among them a steel grey limousine ploughed the heat, always skirting the speed limit. Inside the three silent passengers didn't spare a glance for nature's beauty. Adriano, driver, bodyguard, sometimes gardener and handyman concentrated on the traffic and kept an eye on his watch. The train he was trying to catch would leave Milano in about two hours and they still had a long way to go. From time to time he thought about the latest football match (Inter vs. AS Roma ) and if he would find time for a little nap after a good lunch. The last time he had driven up to Milano, the driver of the car parked next to his had offered to show him a nice and little fair-priced trattoria. Adriano tried to recall the way they had taken on foot. Would he find it quickly on his own or would he waste precious time looking for it? He decided to give himself a quarter of an hour, that had been the amount of time they had needed the last time to reach it. If he hadn't found it by then, he would just grab a bite somewhere else. Would Assunta be happy, if he brought her a new pair of shoes from Milan? But then, his wife had taught him that shoes weren't flowers. You didn't just pick them up and brought them home. They had to MATCH the clothes in her wardrobe. Then maybe little ballerina shoes with a little ribbon in pink for their four years old daughter? Certainly there could be nothing said against buying pink shoes for their little girl, could it? But what shoe size had Nicoletta currently? She grew so fast at the present time. Nearing a slow truck carrying fresh fruits up North in his lane, he dropped all thoughts of shoes and set the indicator to switch lanes and accelerated. The powerful BMW 750 obeyed with a purr and they passed the truck easily and smoothly. He smiled. What a mighty fine car this was. He'd rent the model next time again, when the _dottore_requested a car. When he switched back into the old lane, his gaze in the rear mirror fell upon the parting of a dark haired man, bent over some important looking papers in his lap, that was covered by a briefcase. Mentally Adriano shrugged. Whenever he saw the man or drove him somewhere there was always the briefcase and a lot of papers. In his opinion the man just didn't know how to enjoy life.

Marcello Fano frowned at something he was reading and made a note at the margin. He'd need to talk about this with the _dottore_. Looking up from his report he was transported back in time. He could still hear his friends from university in Napoli laugh their heads off, when he declared he had accepted the job of a secretary/assistant for a glassblower in Venice. There were jobs more profitable for a man with his skills than typing letters. Besides, the Venetian climate was hard to bear. Hot and damp in summer, cold and damp in winter. But Marcello had started working for the dottore, immediately fascinated by the man and his bold visions and aspirations, leading with a hard hand but being also a man who never asked anything he wasn't prepared to give, too. A man who only accepted the highest standards, professionally as well as personally and challenged you constantly. A man who rewarded good results and punished failure. No, Marcello had never regretted once working for_dottor_Massimo.

For now he had to concentrate on the present and the recent past. Marcello moved fractionally his head and his gaze fell upon the only son and heir. For days now the good _dottore_ had been preoccupied. He must have slept badly at nights and to him it looked as if the wrinkle of his forehead, that was reserved for his son, had even deepened in an incredibly short time. Marcello became thoughtful. Dutifully he read the leading paper of the yellow press _Il_Gazz_ettino_to find common ground with the workers and had found a short article on the society page reporting that the son of _dottor_ Massimo had won in a spectacular match the championship in fencing. A match which people, who had watched it, would talk of for a long time the author had predicted. And the same day the call had come to cancel Scipio's flight and start looking for summer camps and dance classes. Marcello still couldn't understand what exactly had happened that day. And even more incomprehensible was the fact, that he also had been instructed to start looking for cooking classes for Scipio and the visible disappointment of the good dottore upon learning that the classes were to start again only in Autumn. Why should Scipio take cooking classes? Why not learn it from their cook Teresa? It would have been so embarrassing for the boy to join the class, where he probably had been the only boy among females of all age.

And the boy's reaction made it fully incomprehensible. If his own father had given him three weeks of fun in Switzerland, he would have jumped up and down from sheer joy. But Scipio didn't look as if he was full of anticipation and joy. Just this morning the _dottor_ had called him into his office on Murano and told him to accompany Scipio to Milan and to make sure the boy would indeed mount the train to Geneva. And embarrassed the good _dottor_ had admitted that there was the chance that Scipio would bolt at first opportunity and try to return to Venice, which had to be prevented by all means. And that he was to instruct the chaperons accordingly that they would keep a watchful eye on Scipio. And when he would have watched the train leave, he was supposed to meet with their supplier of minerals in Milan to negotiate new conditions. The boy was an stupid ingrate, who couldn't appreciate the good fortunes that smiled down on him Marcello decided with a hard nod.

The stupid ingrate felt the gazes that fell upon him from time to time, either from Adriano or from Marcello, but ignored them. In front of his eyes cars, whose drivers didn't care about speed limits, passed by. Yellow, grey, silver, black, red, green, blue….every colour imaginable. Old cars, new cars, big cars, small cars. Cars with only one passengers and cars that carried more passengers than allowed by safety regulations. Usually very alert and attentive to Adriano's driving and enjoying the ride very much, because he so seldom got to drive in a car, he didn't pay any attention whatsoever to this trip. His mind was firmly focussed on the days that had passed since he had won the championship, while Linkin Park blasted into his ears thanks to his ipod.

Just two days ago he had sat at the dinner table with father and had picked his food - his victory and the subsequent party already a thing of the past. As usual they had been eating without speaking to each other. If one was to believe Mona, they sat down with Victor each evening and everyone told how the day had been. Her mother and Victor told about their progress in the new novel or what gossip they had heard and she told about school. This was something Scipio almost couldn't understand and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't imagine himself asking his father about his day in the office or his father asking him what interesting things had happened in school.

He had felt no appetite. Annia and he had said their bittersweet goodbyes and he had kissed the salt of her tears. His bag had been packed, the letter to his father had been written and his room stripped of anything that might give a hint towards his friends. That night would have been the night to run away for the summer. Renzo would pick him up at the Fondamenta Nuove at three in the morning, when even the last tourists had found their way back to their hotel beds and when nobody would see a black boat come for a teenager. Would family pride prevail or would _dottor_ Massimo admit to the police that not all was alright at the casa and that his son had run away and have no brick and no boat be left unturned in order to find the unruly boy? And would the police search for him endanger his friends in any way? But as always the unforgettable memories of a traumatized little boy had overruled any other concerns. Still, Scipio had been nervous. Since his little stunt with Prop he had been able to feel his father's eyes on him even more heavily. What had seemed such a brilliant idea on the high of his victory didn't look so brilliant anymore in the dull blazing day light. He knew his father well enough to know he wouldn't leave it alone.

His father had brought him out of his funk by handing over a brochure. Instead of going to France, he would spend the next three weeks in a summer camp close to Geneva. Supposedly his uncle had been called away to Abu Dhabi on a short notice and couldn't take care of him. Besides, though Scipio's school report with three! "B's" had been most disappointing, he, Lorenzo, felt a sort of reward was in order for winning the fencing championship. Carefully Scipio had picked up the brochure and started leafing it with eyes that got bigger and bigger before he tried to school his facial expression of sheer wonder to indifference and even refusal. Politely he had given back the brochure and told his father he'd rather stay in Venice and spend the summer with his friends. But his father had told him in no unclear words that not going to Switzerland was not an option and pushed the brochure back into his hands. Feeling angry that once more his wishes weren't even considered and that all of a sudden his father decided to take an interest in him – just because he had won that stupid trophy - and looking right through his father's ploy to separate him from Prop, Scipio had pushed his chair back and had stated that his father couldn't make him go to Switzerland. And suddenly they had been in a fight, which had ended with his father shouting that he would send him away in handcuffs and with a police escort if he had to and with Scipio leaving the dining-room without being excused from the table and slamming the door – for the first time ever.

In his room he had realized that he still had the brochure in his hand and had started reading it more carefully. And indeed, on second reading it looked even cooler than the first time. The camp was located at the Lac Léman. Youths from all over Europe would meet. There were basketball and tennis courts, they offered trekking with camp fires and camping, football, archery, quarter staffing, rock climbing, goofy golf, riding, white water rafting, sailing, photography and theatre courses, carpenter and welding courses, painting, glass painting, tailoring and needlework, computer courses on game design, even courses on creative writing. They had a discothèque and once a week they showed a movie. And after some thinking, he had started to unpack his back and had torn his letter into tiny scraps of paper and had called Prop to tell about the change of plans.

Prop…watching the cars rush by a worried Scipio thought about his friends. Would they manage without him for the next weeks? And he thought about how he wished that Prop would sit next to him instead of his father's assistant and go with him to Switzerland. They would have the time of their life, he was sure of it. It was all so unfair. Why could he go on holidays while Prop had to stay behind in Venice and work the whole day for the old scoundrel? Didn't his friend deserve the holidays much more than he? And why had Annia to go with her mother when she hated the convent so much? Why couldn't she be with him just now? And a wave of longing for his girlfriend crashed over him. She had left just two days ago and already he missed her presence, her laugh, her kisses and her touch more than he would have ever thought possible.

_To be continued in Venice..._


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

_Comments: Back in Venice…_

Without having a care in the world, Riccio walked towards San Polo to the laundromat there. The bag was heavy with all of the dirty clothes of the small family, but for once Riccio didn't mind doing his share of household duties. In fact he was in an extremely good mood. And everywhere he went people smiled and laughed. When Mosca would return from the market later that day, he would bring peaches and lots of apples with him. That had already been promised by the fruit vendor Mosca worked for in the mornings. His assistant visited his family on the mainland and therefore Mosca worked longer hours. Whistling Riccio enjoyed the morning summer sun on this day in middle of July. The smell of fresh water drafted through the _calles_ courtesy to last night's summer thunderstorm that had cleared the air, cleaned the canals from the rotting algae, that gave the city its unbearable smell and bad reputation in summer, and let the temperature drop again to a comfortable level. Smiling to himself Riccio turned around a corner and was rooted to the spot. His whistling broke off. He stood facing a group of about eight teenagers and younger children. Their leader blew blue smoke into the clean air. Riccio swallowed.

"Hello, hedgehog, long time no see."

"Hello, Benito. What brings you about?" Riccio tried to play it cool. Since the night on the roof of the Stella Riccio had avoided the gang of the Scarface.

"A little bit of this and a little bit of that….Business, you know." Benito gestured vaguely.

"Well, if you're busy, I don't want to keep you. See you around. " Riccio tried to sidestep the group, but they closed around him.

"Hey, hey, hey, not so fast…Where's the fire, boy? See, I thought, I'd pay La Serenissima a visit and see, what my pal's doing these days, eh?"

"Nothing much. And if the Thief Lord catches you on his turf, he won't be too happy. And then you won't be too happy anymore either, Benito." He tried to hide behind Scipio's bad reputation. Strange, the last time he had seen the gang, he had felt comfortable. Now his neck hair stood on end. They weren't his friends anymore.

"Ah, yes, the Thief Lord…It's gotten quiet around him. I wonder why…."

"Yeah, probably too busy with his high class bitch in her fancy clothes…" The girl with pink and blue streaks in her hair and a new tattoo of a skull on her left arm muttered. Benito ignored her.

"So, tell me, what's going on with him? He hasn't retired, now has he?"

"S'pose she doesn't let him touch her, if he keeps stealing…These girls are all wild for the bad boys, but get cold feet, if they have to do something mommy and daddy wouldn't approve…" Benito shot the girl a dark look and turned to her to shout.

"WHAT THE FUCK'S EATING YOU? For all I care he can bang the living daylights out of her in broad daylight on San Marco in front of a whole busload of Jehovah's Witnesses. I told you before, you won't get the studded collar you constantly whine about. Stop bitching and let us men talk business."

Riccio snorted.

"Can't keep your women under control, can you?"

Benito's eyes narrowed and he flicked his burning cigarette away.

"Peewee, I think you owe me some answers."

"I don't owe you nothing." Riccio pressed his heavy bag closer to his body for protection.

"Now, now. On whose shoulders did you cry your little heart out? Hmh? Who listened to you, when none else did? Who shared his last fags with you? The way I see it, you accumulated quite a debt with us. And today is pay day. Spit it out! Where's your lair? Who are his contacts?"

The group got even closer, the menace evident.

Riccio thought frantically to find an escape route. What could he do or say to get out of this mess? Why couldn't Scipio be here? Or Prop? How he longed for the cool, arrogant tone of the Thief Lord or for Prop's steely voice that announced deep troubles for those who had challenged them. They didn't show any fear and they were damned smart. What would they do? Riccio began to look around. What could he use to his advantage?

And then he heard them. And they went in their direction, using the well-known shortcut to get from San Polo back to San Marco the guides often used to keep their schedule. He took a deep breath and expelled it on a loud cry for help. The gang froze and then Scarface lunged at the smaller boy to try to muffle his scream. But Riccio managed to let out a second scream. And then they heard quick steps of many feet approach and above them a window opened.

"What's going on there? I'm going to call the police." An old lady shouted down from above.

The gang looked at Scarface for new orders. Their leader gave the signal to retreat.

"We will meet again, hedgehog. This isn't over yet." Benito gave him a parting shot.

"Yeah, whatever." Riccio couldn't help himself. Now that the cavalry had arrived, he felt secure again.

"Who has screamed?" The city guide asked. His group of tourists stood a bit aloof, not knowing what was going on, curious, but helpless. And also a bit apprehensive because they couldn't evaluate, if they were drawn into something ugly and time consuming.

"The little boy. I've seen a whole group of those punks surround him. It's an outrage that old people and children aren't safe anymore to step onto the streets. Police should do something about these criminals. Put them away into prison or send them back to where they've come from. And what does police do? Nothing, I say. We will all be murdered in our beds before they raise a finger. The Lega Nord promised….but then, they're politicians like the rest .. And what can you expect from those…. "

The guide addressed the trembling boy and ignored the angry rants of the old lady.

"Are you hurt? Do you want us to call your parents? Signora, would you call his parents or the ambulance?"

Riccio started crying crocodile's tears. He knew he was walking a fine line. He had to appear being shaken up but not so much that they dragged him to the next police station.

"No, no, I'm not hurt. Thank you very much. They tried to take away my money for the laundromat. And how could I have explained that to mama? She would have cried again…."

He hung his head and a small tear made its way from his right eye.

The tourists started to talk among each other. And apparently they demanded to know what was going on, because the guide quickly explained. And suddenly a handkerchief was pushed into Riccio's face and apples and sweets, even money were offered to the boy, who had to endure such a scare. Riccio was tempted, very much so. But Prop's warning reverberated through his mind. Ordinary kids wouldn't accept the offered goods. They would decline politely.

"No, please. Nothing's happened. I still have the money. Please tell the ladies and gentlemen, that's very kind of them to offer, but mama says I oughtn't accept things from people I don't know." He smiled as friendly and open as he could. His teeth sparkled white. Brushing them at least twice a day was one of Riccio's least favourite activities, but Hornet knew no mercy. The family had to stay in good health.

The men patted his shoulder and even if he didn't understand what they were saying to him, he grasped that they were taking him for a very brave little fellow and he let himself being coerced into accepting at least an apple and a chocolate bar. One wouldn't want to be too impolite after all.

Munching on his chocolate bar, Riccio continued his way to the Laundromat in San Polo, looking around quite often to see, if he was being followed by the other gang. The children used the laundromats of the city in a rotating system as a precaution. People would start getting curious, if they saw the same children too often. The first commandment was still "Don't attract any attention." He was scared. Would the Scarface try to stalk him or any member of his family in order to learn what he apparently so desperately wanted to know? Should he hide for a while?

_Continued: a call is given…and guilt has many faces…_


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Passing the large fruit bowl on his way back to his friends from the bathroom of his hut Scipio stopped and dried absentminded his hands on his jeans. He was hungry again. Should he grab the red apple that beckoned him or leave it? In about an hour it was supper time anyway. The familiar tune of "Pirates of the Caribbean" that he had chosen for his mobile phone startled him out of his indecision. Jumping over a bed, he ran towards his locker and opened it hastily. Only his family knew the number. Maybe Annia was trying to reach him? Or had happened something back in Venice to the guys? His heart pounded in his chest.

"Yes? Thief Lord speaking." He had decided that it would be safest to answer any call as his alter ego to protect his true identity.

"_Scip?…It's me."_

"Bo….What's wrong? Has something happened to Prop?" He was immediately alarmed.

"_No…all's fine."_

"Then why?"

"_Scip, when do you come home?"_

"Soon, little tiger." Scip was surprised by the eager and lonely tone in Bo's voice.

"_When's soon?"_ Bo whined.

"In ten days. Now, tell me, where is everybody?"

"_Riccio and Mosca are trying to fix the projector. Mosca's movie is almost finished, he says. Hornet's reading. Mona has given her her library card and since then she can't stop reading. She even has a book or two in the bathroom. Totally drugged on books. Prop says maybe it's the fungi that live in old and dusty books, but I don't understand that and he won't explain. He says I'm too young to know. That's so UNFAIR! Can't you explain, Scip?"_

Scipio laughed not only at Bo's whining, but also on the mental image of a drugged Hornet with glazed eyes flying high while being surrounded by large piles of books.

"Another time, Bo. Where's Prop?"

"_Out with Mona. He's either out working or with Mona. He hasn't time for me anymore. No one has time for me anymore. I'm so bored. Scip, please, come home."_ Bo's voice turned small.

"I can't yet, Bo. But I promise, I'll bring you something, when I come back." Scipio invented on the spur of a moment to cheer the boy up.

"_Really? What?"_

"It's a surprise. I can't tell."

"_Please, tell, pretty please."_

"No. If I tell now, it won't be a surprise."

"_You're mean. You're as mean as Prop and the others. I don't like you anymore."_

"Not even a little bit?"

"_No."_

In the back Scipio heard a bit of commotion and then Prop's voice asking Bo for the mobile phone.

"_**No,**__**I'm**__ talking to Scip. You can talk to him another time…."_

"_Scip?"_ he heard Prosper's voice a second later and an angry shout from the little boy in the background.

"Hi, lover." Scip smiled.

"_Hi, tiger. So, how's Switzerland? Any cute boys in the camp?"_ Prop teased.

"Yes as a matter of fact. But none's as cute as you, Prop. If my father thinks, he can steer me away from you, he's sorely mistaken. You're the only boy for me." Scip teased right back.

"_You think that's what's really behind your surprise trip?"_

"Yes, I thought about it a bit. I didn't tell, but he threatened to have me put in chains, if I didn't go voluntarily. He wouldn't have done this, if he hadn't been desperate to get me out of town. And what could be the reason for it? Only you."

"_Then I'm glad to have been of service."_

"If that's the outcome, you can service me anytime, tiger." He heard Prop's laughter.

"_Well, I better don't. Mona wouldn't be too happy, I think."_

"You told her? What does she say?"

"_Yes, I told her about the two of us. At first, she didn't find it so funny. And we had quite a row to be honest. But I managed to dispel her worries…No, I won't tell you how I did that. I don't ask you what you do with Annia either …Anyway, she's okay now. She says she doesn't mind sharing me with you as long it's only pretend and that she trusts us… " _

"I just hope Annia will be as cool about this as Mona."

Prosper smiled to his girl-friend who returned from a quick trip to the bathroom. "Scip" he mouthed as explanation. She smiled in return and started to play with his unengaged hand, while trying to listen in.

"_I think it's just about reassurance, love and trust."_

"Oh, great, the heavy stuff. It never gets any easier, does it?"

"_No, I guess not. Look at the bright side. You do this for her. Me on the other hand? How does it sound when you tell your girl you shoved your hand into your best friend's back pocket to make him happy?"_

"So it guess it's not a good idea to just tell her that I snuggled into my best friend's embrace to make her happy?"

"_Not just a pretty face after all, I see. Good, I would hate to think of me as being shallow."_

Prop grinned madly and Mona giggled.

"Speaking of observations, Prop, Bo's unhappy. Apparently he feels neglected."

"_Yeah, I know."_ Scip heard Prop's sigh_. "I'll think of something."_

"I've been meaning to ask the whole time, but got distracted. Have you heard from Annia?"

"_No, I'm sorry. She hasn't sent a card to Mona yet. And we don't expect to hear from her either. She told us it will be next to impossible to get in contact with Mona or give us a ring."_

"I know, but still…."

"_You miss her, don't you?"_

"Yes. The first days here in the camp I thought I'd go crazy with missing you all, not just Annia."

"_We miss you, too."_

"Just ten more days and I'll have you back in my arms, Prop." Scip grinned.

"_Can't wait, lover. It's just not the same with Mona." _Prop joked, grinning at Mona, who rolled her eyes, yet madly grinned back and puckered her lips exaggeratedly to kiss the air repeatedly.

"I should hope so."

"_Call when you're back."_

"Will do. See you then. Ciao."

"_Ciao…Oh, Scip, wait! Mona, Bo and Hornet say ciao and send kisses."_

"Say hello for me, too. Kisses. See you then, ciao."

"_Ciao._"

Grinning broadly, Scip disconnected the line and turned around to grab his bandana. He and his room mates had a friendly game of basket ball against room no. 3 from the hut next to theirs. And he was already late. He froze when he saw one of his room mates leaning against the door frame.

"PEDRO! How long have you been standing there?"

"Just long enough to understand why the girls run against a wall with you. You're a goddamned faggot."

"No. It's just a long story. And frankly speaking it's none of your business."

"Just you wait until I tell the others."

"You wouldn't do that." Scip's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You can bet your arse on it. They have to know about you. And then you've been our speaker and leader for the longest time."

"I'm not gay. That's been just banter with my best friend. I have a girl back home. Want to see a photo of her?" He stepped up to Pedro to show him her photo he kept in the memory of his mobile phone.

"Guess so….She's beautiful."

"Yes, she is. Inside and out." Scip smiled tenderly.

Pedro grinned naughtily and clicked his tongue appreciatively.

"Who's interested in the inside, when a girl has an outside like this?"

He wheezed when he had suddenly a close-up view of the floor tiles and a knee was pressed painfully into his back. He felt as if an elephant sat on him and squeezed the air out of his lungs. And his room mate hissed angrily into his ear from behind.

"Listen! That's my girl you're having dirty fantasies about. Don't you ever do this again, don't even think of her or it'll hurt. And don't make the mistake to think this is an idle threat."

Scipio pressed even harder for a moment and then let go. Pedro inhaled greedily and turned around to sit up.

"Shit, are you crazy, man?"

"Yes."

Scip picked up his bandana and put it on. Calm as an early morning in winter he stepped out of the hut and allowed himself a pleased grin. His alpha-male reputation was firmly restored. And Pedro would keep his words and fantasies in check for a while. And now he and his team had to kick some arse on the field.

"PEDRO! We're waiting! Get a move on!" He shouted. Grinning even broader he put on his sun glasses, when he heard the hasty scurrying of feet and the subsequent opening of the front door. But then his face fell and guilt churned in his intestines. Deep guilt of lying to his best friend.

Fact was he hadn't thought of his friends and Venice for several days now and even Annia wasn't the last thought anymore before he fell asleep at night. Fact was he had the time of his life. Almost immediately he had taken on the leadership in his room and a bit later of the entire hut. He didn't question, why that had happened. He hadn't even tried, it just had happened. He was constantly surrounded by other boys and girls, who actively sought his companionship. He was constantly out in the sun and always in action. He had taken an interest in sailing and in archery. He didn't even bother anymore to put on a shirt, being finally truly comfortable with his body.

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Back in Venice, Mona sat down in Prop's lap, whose feeling of guilt laid heavily on his conscience - guilt of omission.

"Why didn't you tell him about the Scarface?" she asked, running a hand through his longish hair

"I couldn't... I…you didn't hear his voice, Mona. He's so happy there. So carefree. How can I destroy that? He would be worried and from there he can't do a thing anyway…No, let him have this time….Soon he will be back and then we can still tell him about the incident."

Mona tipped up his head a bit and kissed him softly but full of emotion.

"You're wonderful. You know I love you, don't you?" She caressed his cheek and Prop stilled her hand, only to lead it to his mouth to give it a small kiss.

"I know. And I love you."

"YAK! If you get mushy, get upstairs before the rest of us has to puke on the carpet."

Riccio destroyed their moment. He had been on his way to their kitchen to steal a peach. They were very ripe and had to be eaten anyway within the day or they would mould in this damp heat.

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Annia turned and looked over to her mother in the other bed. The moon stood high in the sky. Despite of being deep in the night it was still unbearably hot. Their window was open, but no draft found its way into the cell they shared. How could her mother sleep with her duvet firmly pulled around her, when Annia felt her hair getting damp from the heat? Turning on her side, her gaze fell onto the moon high up in the sky. And folding her arms under her head she looked at him until she could see his friendly face.

Perhaps Scipio also looked up to the moon this very moment and thought of her? And maybe he was daydreaming of her, too, just now, as she had done during evening prayer in the chapel? Maybe he missed her as much as she missed him? Or perhaps he was sound asleep and the same moonlight, that illuminated the narrow patch between the cots of her mother and her, fell onto his face and caressed his eyes and cheeks and kissed his lips softly? She reached out with one arm and looked at her hand. It was small and delicate. This hand bathed in pale light had held Scipio's many times and had been warmed by his. She moved her hand in fluent, graceful moves that betrayed long years of ballet class to caress the moonlight as if by doing so she could caress the light that fell onto his face back on the Isola Segreta and by extension him. After a while she pulled hand and arm back and rolled onto her back and touched her lips as if to kiss the light that had kissed Scipio's lips.

His lips.

She loved his lips and what they did to her and his beautiful smile and laughter. She didn't know, if it was the right way how they kissed each other since neither had any previous personal experience to fall back on, but even if it wasn't THE right way, it was the right way for them. Sighing she recalled how their kisses made her tingle all over, flushed and how a ball of hot butterflies exploded in her every time.

She wished she could talk to someone who'd know about this stuff. Someone other than her sister Annateresa she felt too embarrassed to talk to about Scipio, though the sisters were close and she knew about the gang. She needed a confidante and friend. But she hadn't any close friends in Venice, that is in school or in dance academy. Scipio had warned her right from the start that there wouldn't be any time left for socialising with others outside of the family. But until now she hadn't missed it much. In fact it quite irked her that the flock of giggling girls in the bathroom in school fell silent, when she entered. And she knew they had talked of boys like they had to follow a ten-step-program and how they worried endlessly when they got too hot and bothered or even worse no tingles at all when they kissed their boyfriends or about the latest dating rules. They didn't recognise her as equal. To them she was the little baby with braids. The girl that had no clue about anything. And then she wanted to show them up. Sometimes when she walked out of the school gate, she saw her class mates being picked up by their boyfriends and then she wished fervently that Scipio would wait for her to pick her up, too. They would drop dead, if they saw him wait for her and kiss her hello the way he did, when the gang and especially little Bo wasn't around. But then she certainly wouldn't wear her braids or her good girl clothes. No, she would be herself without her mask and Scip would be himself without his mask.

Letting her eyes slip shut, she started daydreaming about him and the by now familiar knot in her lower abdomen began to get warm and the most delicious pressure and aching started radiating through her body. At the very first beginning of discovering these new sensations they had frightened her in their intensity, but now she welcomed them.

She missed him.

Everyday when the postman came she had the same mad hope – that against all hope and reason Scipio had sent her a letter, telling her how much he missed her and how much he wished they could be together right now. And when she wiped the floor in front of the office rooms she hoped the next call coming in would be for her. But how could he write or call from his island? Every bird she saw became Sophia with a note from him. But no homer pigeon or other bird had ever landed next to her during her gardening. Did he long for a note from her, too? But how could she send one? She hadn't any excuse to leave the grounds to post a letter to Mona and calls to the outside world weren't endorsed. This was a place to find rest and shelter from the world. Not even her mother called her father during their stay to let him know how they were. And should something happen to her sisters or him he would call the nunnery and they would be told.

Her hand slowly trailed an imaginary path from her abdomen up to her chest with her mind firmly focused on Scipio. Did he touch himself, too, while dreaming of her? That thought sent a new heat wave through her body. But before she really touched herself, she stilled her hand. She wanted, yet she didn't want that touch – his touch. She was still kind of disheartened, though Mona had told her how brilliant it felt, when Prosper touched her over her clothes. And how it had only got better since Prop had started shyly to put his hands under her clothes while they were smooching. Mona was the only one she felt comfortable to talk to. They lived on the same page, had the same fears of being found out by their parents and they both loved their boys and battled with the same fears and expectations.

A snort from the other side of the room made her open her eyes abruptly. Had her mother seen what she had been doing?! She felt ashamed. But her mother only turned in her sleep and a heartbeat later deep and regular breaths told that her mother had sunk into an even deeper sleep.

Carolina, her best friend from Roman nights, danced in front of her inner eye. Why didn't she think of Carolina to talk to? Because Carolina didn't know. Teary-eyed they had promised each other to keep in touch and to stay best friends forever and to tell each other everything important. But then phone calls were rare, because she had been always too busy and letters too dangerous. Letters could be opened by pestering little sisters or stupid big brothers or annoying parents on purpose or by accident. And so, also thinking of having sworn secrecy to Scip, Carolina was still ignorant of Scipio and the gang. No, her new confidante and best friend was Mona. But maybe she could pay a visit to Carolina on their way back to Venice? Try to catch up with her? With her she could endlessly rave about Scipio without being subjected to Resa's knowing smile or Mona rolling her eyes because they had talked about the boys just the day before. She would proudly show a photo of Scip…no, she wouldn't. She hadn't dared to bring a photo of him lest her mother find it. Annia sighed. So she was back to having to fall back on memories.

Her fingers closed around warm and firm flesh and just before she closed her eyes on the memory of a Scipio clad just in swim shorts her gaze fell upon the Christ over the door of their cell. The suffering in his face made her feel even more ashamed and guilty. How could she think of pleasure and lust when he had died for her sins? She tried to read the time on the small alarm clock. It was past midnight. Happy freaking 16th birthday, Annia! She congratulated herself.

With her mother next to her and Christ's suffering above her the hot flames in her body cooled down. Disgruntled and frustrated she turned away from the moonlight. Why hadn't she just run away with Scipio to the Isola Segreta and spend the summer there? Maybe Renzo and Morosina would have taught her a bit of white magic? At least she wouldn't be stuck in a nunnery and die of boredom and an overdose of frankincense? Because she was a coward. She had complained and bitched endlessly and yet had let herself being led to the nunnery like a sheep to the slaughterhouse, smelling the blood in the air and thus knowing of her fate yet too weak to fight against it. Whereas Scipio had actively plotted against his fate despite of knowing that the punishment of running away perhaps would be even worse than having to spend several weeks in a military training camp. Overall disappointed and feeling ashamed and guilty she willed herself to find sleep in this still too hot summer night in early August in South Italy.

_ To be continued...Scipio comes home and phase II of a father's plan to save his son is set in motion._


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

_comment: Happy New Year to all of you!_

Dragging his feet Scipio dismounted the train from hell and sucked in greedily big gasps of fresh, salty Venetian air, feeling profoundly grateful and relieved to finally be able to leave this broken down piece of junk on tracks. His fellow travellers to his left and right followed suite and here and there the first tentative smiles reappeared on their faces. Scipio looked up and down the platform to see, if there was a familiar face waiting for him, but the crowd remained strangers to him. Sighing and berating himself that he had even nurtured the crazy hope for a moment that his family, who didn't know exactly when he was supposed to be due back in Venice, would wait for him at the end of the platform. Though he hadn't texted them to let them now either, lest it did look as if he was expecting such behaviour of them. He didn't want to make it a moral obligation for them. He would also have been almost glad, if Marlena would have come or that his father would have deemed the return of his son important enough to leave the business alone for an hour. So he put on his sunglasses, threw his big hold-all over his shoulder and walked towards the exit. He decided to allow himself the luxury of taking a water taxi and at the casa he would take a loooong shower to wash off the grime of an entire too long travel, maybe eat something, no make that definite, try to placate her offended majesty Andromeda, who would probably scratch him and turn her back on him the instant he tried to scratch her behind her ears as punishment for his long absence, text his friends to let them know he was back in town and that he would love to see them the next day, hug his pillow and fall into sweet sleep from which he wouldn't rise until the sun was high up in the sky the next day.

But then, one familiar face did stand out from the crowd – Adriano stood at the end of the platform unmoving like a rock parting the crowd by his presence like Moses parted the seas. He smiled slightly as a greeting. The driver chuckled inwardly as he took sight of the young master, which he hadn't almost recognized anymore. Wearing sunglasses, a red bandana, no shirt, clad in dirty old jeans with a large rip at knee-level and with open trainers he looked like a deeply tanned, sweaty and tired teenager who had had a GRAND time in Switzerland.

"Good afternoon, Master Scipio."

"Good afternoon, Adriano. I already thought I'd have to take a water taxi."

Adriano bowed slightly and extended his arm to fetch the hold-all.

"No, thanks. It's not that heavy." Scipio enforced his grip on his hold-all that contained his mobile phone, his special gift for Annia's birthday that had been days ago and some others for his family – dynamite for Scipio to blow himself up, if his father should ever find out.

"As you wish. We have to hurry a bit, I'm afraid."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to be late for your first lesson."

"What lesson?"

"Dance class."

"WHAT?!" Scipio came to an abrupt halt and causing by doing so a minor pile up. He tore off his sunglasses in disbelief.

"Your father has arranged for you to have dance class. Your first lesson starts in…." he checked his watch "….10 minutes. You may want to clean yourself up a bit."

Completely flabbergasted Scipio let himself dragged by the driver towards the landing stage, and soon they were on their way to San Polo.

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Jumping out of the boat, Scipio didn't even turn around to say goodbye to Adriano. Too deeply it was ingrained into him not to be late. He ran into a small _calle_, found the dance studio and ran up the stairs, taking two or three steps at once. There hadn't been much he could do about his jeans, the others looked even worse for wear, but at least he had been able to wet a wash cloth from the water bottle Adriano had given him and clean himself up a bit. Smoothing down his t-shirt, he knocked, waited and entered.

A sea of well-dressed teenagers, two dance instructors and a DJ turned around to look at the intrusion. One of the instructors grimaced as if the cat had dragged a canal rat into her studio.

„And who are you?" She addressed him sharply.

„Scipio Massimo. I apologise for being late, but I just returned these minutes from holidays."

„And where might that have been? The Bronx? Massi ….here you are." She perused her list to find him. „Well, ladies and gentlemen, this is a fine example of how you should NOT look like for ballroom dancing. Signor Massimo, I only excuse a violation of the dress code once. If I see you again in my class looking like a…" She searched her mind for the most horrid expression she could find to communicate her disdain, "…gangsta rapper, you're out. Please pull off your glasses… Are you on drugs?"

She referred to his red-rimmed eyes.

"No! I just haven't slept since last Friday. Farewell party that lasted for days."

"I see. Where are your shoes?"

"My shoes?" Scipio looked down at his trainers, neatly tied by now, but not appropriate for a carefully waxed dance floor. "Ahm…."

After a quick staccato knocking that didn't ask for entrance but to announce it, the door opened and Adriano entered.

„Master Scipio, you forgot your shoes. Your father wishes for you to be back as soon as your dance lesson is over. He expects guests for tonight for a dinner party and your attendance is required." A look of compassion spread on his face. "On the other hand, I will tell the _dottore_, you're dead on your feet. He will understand."

The exchanged a look and embarrassed Adriano cleared his throat. Both know the _dottore_ wouldn't understand and that Scipio would attend the dinner dutifully, even if he most probably fell asleep. Well, at least he would try not to fall into the soup.

"May I take your hold-all with me?"

„No thank you, Adriano. Please tell my father, I will be home on time."

Adriano raised his eyebrow on the subtle difference of wording.

"Wish you to be picked up after your lesson?"

Scipio shaked his head. "I'll manage."

A last nod and bow and Adriano tried surreptitiously to pick up the hold-all close to Scipio's feet.

"Adriano! Leave it!" Scipio ordered sharply and continued with a smile in his voice.

"Why are you so keen on relieving me of my possessions? Was there a stock exchange crash and Murano has been flooded and we're dirt poor now and are back to pay in kind for services rendered?"

"Why are you so keen on keeping it? What's in it?" Adriano allowed himself a certain familiarity with the junior for once.

"My stash of coke." Scipio joked and his smile fell, when Adriano's face showed no trace of amusement.

"Jesus, Adriano. I'm not sure, if I'm appalled or rather flattered that you wouldn't put it past me. I know you're going to pick up father from Murano and he won't be pleased to have to share the back seat with my dirty clothes. I just want you to spare the reprimand that you weren't fast enough to bring the hold-all to the casa and then go to Murano."

"Very well, young master." Again Adriano bowed slightly and left.

A murmur had started among the teenagers and louder whispers of "Massimo", "rich" and "glass" could be heard among them and the smiles of many girls, that had previously been rather wary, became inviting. Scipio rolled his eyes inwardly and hastened to comply as his dance instructor arched her eyebrows and gestured towards the shoes in his hands.

„Now, ladies and gentlemen, let's start after all. Please turn to your partners and ask the ladies for the dance….Ladies, you bow your head slightly in gracious acceptance, gentlemen, you bow slightly and take your partner's hand to lead her to the dance floor. Line up with a good metre between the next dancing couple... More grace, dear ladies…..that's better… And back to the side lines. We repeat this a few times before we begin with the waltz. And this time you ask your lady, if she wishes to dance. And I don't want to hear "let's dance", "wanna dance?" or something similar. We will ask our ladies respectfully. And I don't want to hear something like "why not?" or "sure". We will give the gentlemen a proper answer, in which we express our delight in a grammatically correct full sentence. That goes for the gentlemen as well. Please."

Scipio smiled at his dance partner. She was shy, petite and a bit plump. The type that was always picked last for the team. But he didn't care. He would eventually dance with all of them and show no preference. It was the polite thing to do and it would crush any hopes the girls might start to harbour if he singled out one. He had learnt his lesson during his holidays, when he had flirted and teased one time too much.

"I'm sorry for smelling a bit ripe. The air condition was broken down in the train and it was one of those modern ones, where you can't open a window. Felt like being in a sauna but clothed."

"That's okay. I understand. I'm sorry for stepping on your toes soon. I'm not a good dancer I'm afraid." She blushed and didn't look into his eyes.

"I'll forgive you and you forgive me and we try to survive this lesson."

The girl nodded shyly before she turned to the instructors to watch their steps intently as if there was nothing more captivating than that, so that the gorgeous boy in front of her wouldn't notice that she was totally in awe over him.

During their short break Scipio guzzled down a full tin of coke to replenish sugar and caffeine. Opening his hold-all he got his _telefonino_, dialled and waited for an answer.

"Prop? It's me. I'm back….No, not tonight. I'm going to have to act as party decoration….my father….I'm having my first dance lesson….Are you quite finished laughing? Thank you…._Calle_ Primavera, Campo San Bartholomeo. You stand with your back to the small bar with the red awning and the _calle_ opposite it is…See you in about an hour. Bye…" He wanted to disconnect but then his smile widened. "Hello, little tiger….yes, I've missed you, too. You know that. See you soon…Bo, break's over…Yes, I've brought you something…Bo…Bo, later, okay? Bye."

He disconnected for good, put his mobile phone away and stood up to join the others on the dance floor again.

After another three quarters of an hour and at the end of dance class a stream of dance pupils washed down the small stair case. Ties were loosened or ripped off, shoes exchanged for trainers, court shoes for sandals or flip-flops. Young ladies and gentlemen changed back to rowdy teenagers, saying goodbye until the next day for another lesson. Girls were chatting up a storm among them about who could dance, who couldn't, who was cute, super cute and who was just a looser. Embarrassed boys simply hoped that none of their friends would happen to walk by when they just stepped out of the building, cataloguing the girls in their mind and thinking of ways how to catch one of them alone to ask they would like to share an ice-cream with them or anything else.

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Staying behind Scipio ripped off again his sweaty t-shirt, put on his sunglasses and swung his hold-all over his shoulder. He dragged his feet down the staircase. He was really completely exhausted by now and knew, if he sat down he would surely fall asleep the same instant. He stepped out and hadn't even time to drop the hold-all in order to catch the small child, who lunged at him. He had to catch him with one arm. And seconds later he was surrounded by all his friends except the person he longed most to see – Annia, who was still in her nunnery. Bo in his arms couldn't calm down, for his joy to have Scip back was simply too great.

"Scip, Scip, guess what." He rather shouted than asked.

"What?"

"I can swim."

"You can?"

"Yes, Mona and Prop taught me."

"That's great, little tiger. What else have you done?"

"Having missed you. You can't ever go away for so long, Scip. Promise, you won't ever do this again. Please." He begged.

"I promise little tiger. If I can help it, I won't ever be gone for so long again. God, I missed you all so much." And by looking at his friends and saying it Scip realised how much truth laid in his words. Being back with them he felt the deep and content joy of being reunited with them. He had truly come home.

He put down the small boy to embrace his other friends. Even Mosca and Riccio got a hug. And then Prop and Scip looked at each other speechless. They were dressed almost identically or in the same state of undress but for the pants. Prop's were light blue, Scipio's a washed out black. Giggling Hornet spoke out what they all thought.

"We know you're close like brothers, but this is getting creepy. Even the colour of your bandanas is the same. You look like twins!"

"Hornet, you don't even have a clue how close we are."

Scip pulled down his glasses a bit to wink at Prop, who smiled just back and opened his arms for Scipio to step in. Bo's impatient wailing brought an end to their heartfelt and manly embrace. Mona snorted inwardly. How the _dottore_ could have ever thought that Scipio was in love with Prosper was beyond her. There was absolutely no sexual tension whatsoever between the boys. Prop was right. She needn't worry, at least not about Prop staying faithful to her.

"Scip, what did you bring? I want to see!"

The teenager stepped back and crouched down to open his hold-all and retrieve a small envelop. He straightened up again and addressed the surprised Mosca.

"You scarified everything you held dear and that linked you to your past and your family, Mosca, in order to help us. This has never been properly acknowledged by us. Maybe we all took it for granted or Prosper and I just wanted to forget about this fiasco of our first and last attempt at a professional career as burglars. Whatever it was, we weren't good friends for you in this matter. And I want to apologise to you for failing to give you the due credit for what you did for us."

Scipio opened his envelop and became a bit shy and his cheeks got a rosy hue.

"I don't know, if this can replace in any way what you've lost, but…when I walked the streets of Geneva, I found this little shop. It's material-wise of no great value, but I think it's us." He pulled out a thin leather ribbon with a pendant. It showed a small figure.

"It's Saint Nicolaus, patron of the children and the thieves. Please accept this, Mosca, as a token of our respect and love for you. I've brought one for each of us as a symbol of our union."

"It's beautiful, Scip. And certainly I accept it. Because we _are_ a family."

Mosca stepped closer to let Scipio put the necklace around his neck. And one gang member after another stepped forward to receive his or her necklace from Scipio's hand.

"That's cool. Just like a gang tattoo or so." Riccio raved proudly, looking at it closely.

Bo got his necklace by joined effort from Scipio and Prosper, who acknowledged with this gesture that Scip carried from now on officially the same responsibility and rights towards Bo as Prosper as if he truly was his brother in blood relation. Mona got her necklace from Prosper's hands and it was more than receiving an outward sign of belonging to a group of children for her. And lastly Prop bent his head for Scipio to put his pendant around his neck and then took one of the two remaining ones and gave it to Scipio. The boy raised his head again and they looked into each others eyes, once again showing that unexplainable ability to read the other's mind, before they turned with dead serious expressions to the others.

"Herewith we swear to protect this family with whatever it takes and to stop at nothing to fulfil this oath." Scipio announced and Prosper nodded determined.

Hornet and Mona shivered. They felt the boys really meant what they said. This wasn't a meaningless grand gesture, provoked by the solemness of the moment.

"Are you my real brother now, Scip?" Bo asked.

"Yes. Now I'm your real brother. It's as if I had adopted you. Is that okay?" Scipio smiled.

Bo nodded madly grinning from happiness. For him it meant that he would never be alone and lost again. He had Prop and Scip and all the others as family for all eternity.

"Let's go home." Mosca suggested.

"No, let's go first to Florini's. We have to celebrate Scipio's return."

"You just want some ice-cream." Mosca objected.

"So? And you don't?" Riccio retaliated indignantly.

"I don't hear any objections, though, Riccio." Mosca stroke back.

"No fighting, boys. Let's make a little detour. Ice-cream's on me." Scipio decided laughingly.

"Here's your mask, Scip." Bo offered.

Looking at it for a long moment and turning it in his hands Scipio sighed.

"No, not today, Bo. Nobody will ever recognise the son of the respectable Dottor Massimo dressed like this and with glasses. I'm still on holidays. Tomorrow I will be again Thief Lord, too. But today I'm just Scipio."

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Eating contentedly his ice-cream Scipio looked up when he once again felt Mona's gaze on him.

"What?" he addressed her.

Mona shrugged and blushed slightly.

"If you want to make Annia's mother believe you're gay, you need to be a lot more convincing than what I have just seen."

"You mean, if you were to see us on the streets, you would never ever believe it? That is, that we can pull it off and be a loving couple?"

"Nope. Even if Prop grabbed one of your more private parts…there's just no spark between you both."

"No spark?"

"No. You just don't radiate the "coupleness" feeling."

"We don't?"

"To be honest, I don't see a way, how you can convince anyone and in the least Annia's mother, who will take a very close look at your performance, if she's going to allow her daughter to run around with a boy. Your father just saw what he wanted and expected to see and drew the conclusions he wanted to draw. That was an easy one. You need to practice being in love with my boyfriend…. and I can't believe I just said that."

Scipio laughed out loud.

"What makes you so sure that you've already seen our best performance? May I remind you that this is nothing Prosper or I are comfortable to shout from the rooftops? And there's Bo to consider. What kind of example would we set, if we started holding hands or showing other signs of being in love in front of his child's eyes?"

"Yes, you're right. Okay, here's the deal. If you can convince me and Annia, you can convince her mother, too. After all, we should know best."

"Deal, but under two conditions. Prop and I choose the moment and Annia has to agree to this charade. If she's against it, we blow it off. It's enough that I've given my father a nightmare."

"Hey, what are you whispering about?" Prop joined them after he had made sure that Bo wouldn't drop his cone and wouldn't smear his ice-cream all over his t-shirt in his battle with the food.

"About you and me. Mona can brief you. I think, I'd better go now, lest I'm late for father's party. See you tomorrow."

Hugging everybody again, Scipio left them alone at Florini's after had turned once to wave at them.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36 **

For any mere mortal the splendid collection of expensive boats and their drivers would have generated awe. For the inhabitants of the Fondamenta Bollani it wasn't an unusual sight and hardly worth mentioning. For the tired teenager they only meant that he was late - too late.

He knocked and the door was opened mere seconds later by Violetta, who rather looked anxious and relived than pleased to see him.

„About time that you come home, master Scipio. Your father is not amused. Most of the guests have already arrived." She greeted him gruffly. She hated it, when too many guests ran around in the house and dirtied everything. She knew even with the hired helps she would spend at least two days alone on removing all traces of this party on top of her daily duties.

Laughter and bits of conversation, that drifted through the wide open doors into the hall that connected the crowded prestigious rooms, underlined her observation.

But Scipio only shrugged and passed her. If he was lucky, he could get up to his room without being noticed by guests or his father and take a long reviving shower. And then he might have just enough energy to face him and his reproaches. He turned towards the small staircase that would lead to the rooms upstairs and that was now blocked by a thick red cord. A help almost ran him over in his haste to bring cool drinks. This minor incident caused enough of a commotion to alert his father of his presence, who excused himself from his guests to walk up to his son and lead him aside before too many guests saw him in his state and could start to comment unfavourably.

"Where have you been now? I instructed Adriano to tell you to come home _immediately _after class."

"He did. But I had to do other things first."

„And what might that have been? Gallivanting half-naked through the city?"

„So what? Let them look as much as they want. I'm hot. I sat eight hours in an overcrowded train with defective air conditioning and had afterwards two excruciating hours of dance class."

„I see that you look like a right mess. You go take a shower this instant. And if you had come immediately home, you would have been able to rest for at least an hour. But no, my precious son had to have his own way."

„Yes, father. May I go now?"

Lorenzo nodded.

"Hurry up, your guests are waiting for you."

"My guests?"

"Certainly. We're having a family party to liven up the dull summer spell. I don't know how many teenagers run around here. You will take care of them. One can hardly expect me to talk to a 15 years old about Hiphop or whatever it is what you call music these days."

Scipio nodded and in turning around to head for the stairs he couldn't stop himself to give him a parting shot.

„By the way: hello to you, too, father. Yes, thank you, I had a fine time in Switzerland. It's so nice of you to ask." He mocked.

His father's mine got darker.

"I see you intend to pick up right where you left upon your departure."

"I can only return the compliment, father."

Scipio turned again and went upstairs leaving an angry Lorenzo Massimo behind. A hand laid on his shoulder from behind.

"Well, didn't you wish for Scipio to turn into a rebellious teenager to see, if there's life in the boy? Looks to me, that you've got your wish granted." He could hear the smile in Marlena's voice.

"Yes, and what's the old saying again? Be careful what you wish for?" He sighed.

"He's growing up, Lorenzo. The time has come for him to lock horns with you to prove his strength. And I think he has a lot to prove to you and mostly to himself."

"Well, if he looks for battle, he can have it with me. He won't know what hit him. I'm going to…" he bit the words out.

Marlena stepped around him to face him. She laid a hand over his mouth.

"Ssh…you will be right here and fight with him. That's right. But, Lorenzo, please, try to hold back a bit. He needs to know that he can stand up to you. He needs to know that he's important enough to you to let him fight with you. He needs to know that you start to take him seriously. He needs to know that he becomes a man in _your_ eyes, too. Please, Lorenzo."

Lorenzo closed his eyes on her touch and let her words sink into him. She smiled when his mouth curved under her hand into a smile.

"You're probably right, Marlena. Let's head back to our guests."

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A short while later Scipio returned from upstairs. His hair was still slightly damp, but now he dressed in clean dark linen trousers and a white crisp shirt with short sleeves and black polished shoes. He stepped up to the small group of adults consisting of his father's friends, business partners and many new faces that were gathered around their charming and charismatic host. In the corner of the other room across the hall with the fountain, farthest away from the adults, he saw a very large group of teenagers, mostly girls he noticed in passing. His guests he presumed. But first he had to make his rounds among the adults to greet them ad pay them the proper respect.

"There you are. Your father told us, you just returned from a youth camp in Switzerland. How did you like it?" The _vice-questore_ addressed him after the usual round of greetings.

"I had a marvellous time, thank you."

"Ah yes, these youth camps. I can still remember the one I went to once. The first time away from home and then the girls, having your first cigarette….."

"Getting drunk…." Another chimed in.

"Yes…the most fun we had when we tried to outsmart the personnel and sneak into the girl's room or tried to have a date behind the kitchen hut or having a stroll at midnight in the woods." More warmed up to the topic and pulled up old, half-forgotten memories.

"I remember being on our own and a bit naughty. Doing things we were too shy and too good to try at home."

"And have you been a good boy?" The jovial and loud head of the bakers' guild patted heavily Scipio's shoulder on a laugh. Lorenzo carefully disguised a grimace. He didn't particularly liked the man, but he had three pretty daughters of Scipio's age, who were also present.

"That depends on your definition of being good. I didn't start smoking, didn't get drunk or experimented with drugs and kept my hands off the girls." He winked and then looked at this father under his lashes, who looked decidedly ill at ease.

The head started to laugh boomingly and patted Scipio again, who winced a bit under the man's heavy hand.

"Smart boy." He paid compliments. "If my father would breathe down my neck, I'd say the same. But still I reckon, you were hell on the ladies anyway…"

"No, weren't to my liking, I'm afraid."

"My, aren't we picky…."

"Yes. I only want the best...After all, I've got a LOT to offer..." There was a decidedly naughty expression on Scipio's face.

And the head of guild got red in the face from laughing so hard, while the others smiled or laughed softly.

"And what are you going to do with the rest of your holidays, young _man_?"

"Hang out with my friends, I guess."

"I'm afraid there's not much time for this. He's got dance class and he's going to attend cooking class, too. Starting tomorrow morning." Lorenzo interrupted.

"I will?" Scipio was surprised and annoyed. What else had his father decided behind his back for him during his absence?

"You will. It's time you learn how to fend for yourself. The time's over, when we changed from our mother's kitchen into the kitchen of our wife. I want him to leave the house, have a little flat somewhere and sow his wild oats before he'll marry. And during that time I don't want him to live on fried eggs and the pizza service. So it's cooking class for you, my son."

"He will probably the only boy among a flock of girls and young women. Think you can handle them, my son?" the baker asked with a large smile on his face.

"I'll think I'll manage as long as they don't think I'm on the menu as well." Scipio answered according to this role.

The man got hiccups from laughing. But here and there speculative looks were exchanged among the flock of guests.

"I keep telling you, the boy's right. The boy's right I say."

The wife of the director of a lace manufactory on Burano spoke up.

"You know, this is an excellent idea. I'll have Marco join, too." She addressed a waiter and ordered him in a low voice to go find her son for her and bring him to them.

"And what comes next for him, Lorenzo? Sewing class?" Amused laughter erupted spontaneously.

"If it's necessary." Lorenzo shot Scipio a glance that communicated a different message. "I can't have him run around with buttons missing, can I?"

Smirking Scipio listened in for a moment as his father was assailed by the leader of the Liberals in Venice to run for office as a beacon of modern times and a man of vision for the 21st century.

"…..Have dinner with us next week. My wife and the girls will be delighted, won't we, Carmen?" His wife being used to business dinners and constant invitations nodded dutifully. Even if Lorenzo Massimo wouldn't let himself be used for the party, it would still help her husband's political aspirations to count Lorenzo Massimo among their political friends. Despite of having no intentions to leave the political shadows Lorenzo nodded and accepted the invitation only because of the girls of the house.

Using the quiet moment, when he wasn't the centre of attention, Scipio addressed a man, who stood a bit apart from all the others, observing them thoughtfully – signor Venturi. Maybe this was a good opportunity to prepare the field, so to speak and sow the seed of knowledge and familiarity in the Venturi family as being a part of Annamaria's life.

"Signor Venturi, I'm pleased to meet you again. I haven't seen your wife and daughter yet. Surely they're also here?" He pretended to look around again.

"My wife and youngest daughter spend every summer holidays in a nunnery. I don't expect them back before the last day of the holidays." He explained to Scipio and any of the other guests who bothered to listen in.

"Oh yes, I remember. Annamaria mentioned spending some time in the nunnery when we last spoke."

"You've met my daughter since?"

Scipio nodded and tried to play it cool and a bit indifferent..

"Venice is only a small town, signore. Everybody bumps constantly into anybody. From time to time I meet Annamaria and we exchange a few words."

Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of another youth of maybe 18 years with dark hair and blonde tips – Marco, who listened patiently to his mother's idea and shot then a long look at Scipio, before he started to smile softly, which turned quickly boastfully, when he felt his mother's penetrating gaze on him.

"Cooking class? Great idea, mom. I can't leave the man here all alone with the girls. Someone's got to help him." He laid for a moment his arm around Scipio's shoulders and squeezed his biceps, beaming at him.

Scipio smiled in return. Had that been a carefully disguised caress of his hand, when he had dropped his arm again? He wasn't sure.

"I'd be delighted, Marco."

Lorenzo looked alarmed. Weren't their smiles just a tad too welcoming?

"Ahm….I think….the class is already fully booked, I'm afraid." He invented on the spur of a moment. He didn't want the other boy to distract his son from the girls.

"Oh, what a pity." Marco's mother sighed.

"Off you go, you two. Scipio, your guests are waiting." Lorenzo reminded his son of his duties.

Obediently the boys said goodbyes and walked over to the other room to mingle with their people of the same age. From time to time Lorenzo checked upon Scipio and smiled satisfied, when he saw his son speaking to different girls, cracking jokes to make them laugh and having apparently a good time. But his last patrol found his son missing – and the boy Marco, too. Alarmed he began to search the place and found Scipio sitting on the balustrade of the narrow balcony that stretched across the entire width of the _casa_. Marco stood in front of him. Apparently they had tried to escape the almost stifling heat within the house that couldn't be dispelled by the many ventilators. Stepping closer to the open door he listened in.

Scipio sipped his orange juice, while Marco swirled thoughtfully his glass of light red wine and then offered some to Scipio who shook his head.

"Thanks, but one sip and you can carry me upstairs and tuck me in." He joked.

"It would be my pleasure." Marco smiled warmly and hopped up onto the balustrade to sit close to Scipio.

A bit spooked Scipio didn't know what to reply. His instincts told him to tell Marco in no uncertain terms that he was barking up not alone the wrong tree, but that said tree also stood in the wrong forest. But on the other side, if he wanted to make his father and the Venturis believe he preferred boys over girls, he should at least try to look flattered. Eventually he just smiled a bit shyly at Marco and looked down into his glass.

"You know, this wine is really good." Marco spoke up again.

"Thank you. It's from my uncle's vineyard in Trentino.We still get some crates every year despite of my parents being divorced. If you want, I can give you the address and tell him to give you a good price."

"That would be nice." Marco searched for a safe topic. "So, it'll be your final year at our cherished school? Already thought about the elective course? I recommend something easy. That'll help you to concentrate on the important courses. For instance I took art history with old signor Maldesi. He goes easy on you in the final year and won't expect much more than regular presence in his class. You'll get a good grade for free. On top it always makes a good impression, if you can tell a Raffael from a Botticelli."

"I've heard that advice before. Yet I thought about picking up another language."

"I see. Each to his own."

They fell silent. Scipio thought about returning to the party. It was fun contrary to his earlier expectations and he felt awkward in Marco's presence. Marco thought about how he could make Scipio stay a bit longer on the balcony with him. There was something about the other that intrigued him.

"Well, don't come running to me to complain, if it'll get too much." He joked.

"Don't worry, I won't."

Marco's face fell a bit. That had been quite clear, but maybe a last attempt wouldn't hurt.

"So, cooking class for you, eh? It's actually really not a bad idea. Although I don't understand why you can't learn from your cook. Me, I've got a small flat over at Mestre and sometimes it would be really nice to know how to handle more than the microwave in the kitchen after a long day in the office. They always say Mestre has no style, but it's not that bad a part of Venice after all. At least not where I live. I have a really spectacular view over the_laguna_ and _La Serenissima_, especially at night…Perhaps you would like to see it one day or better night?" Marco didn't even try to disguise the eager hope in his voice.

Scipio looked up. Playing a role was one thing, but this went too far. He opened his mouth, when he saw something that changed his mind – his father and from his look he was eavesdropping. Well, he would make it easier for him.

"Thanks, Marco. That's really nice of you." He smiled warmly. "Perhaps I will take you up on your offer. But I'm pretty much involved…. . I don't have much time." He answered pretty loudly.

Marco nodded sadly.

"You're already together with someone, aren't you?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, Marco."

"That's okay. No real harm done."

Scipio gave him another friendly smile before he hopped down.

"Let's go back inside and play our roles of straight guys?"

Marco nodded before he held Scipio back.

"Look, I don't know what game you're playing here, but I can tell that you're not completely playing for our team."

Scipio panicked. His father was still there and he could hear every word they spoke.

"What? Me and girls?! You're mad." Scipio snorted a bit forced. What could he say to convince them?

"Hey, easy. I'm just making a mere observation. It took me a while to figure it out, but now I think I've got it."

"Well, whatever you think you've observed or think you've figured out, it's wrong! I'm not interested in girls. I'm in love with a boy. And we're very happy with each other. He's everything I could ever hope for. He's everything I wish I could be. He's my other half and the light that brightens up my life." Scipio answered fiercely.

"Me thinks, the boy doeth protest too much." Marco smiled. "Hey, look, it's nothing you have to be ashamed of, being attracted to girls, too, that is. Maybe your heart says you're into boys, but your head isn't completely convinced yet. I had girl-friends, too, before I realised that I'm ultimately gay. Don't suppress the part in you that is intrigued by girls. Give yourself some time to sort yourself out."

"I don't suppress anything and I don't have to sort myself out. I know to whom I belong – to him. And nothing can change that." Scipio said resolutely. This conversation was over for him.

"Scipio…" Marco wanted to say so much more, but eventually he just shook his head. Everyone had to follow his own star. "Just let's go back."

Hastily Lorenzo stepped away from the door and headed back to his guests. His face barely betrayed the turmoil of thoughts. Was Marco right? Was Scipio just one confused teenage boy who mistook admiration for another boy for love? He felt hope and fresh determination to convert his son.

_To be continued..._

_Oh, what a tangled web we weave..._


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37 **

Until the end of the summer holidays the gang saw very little of Scipio, because Lorenzo kept his son busy. In the mornings Scipio mounted the train to Padova to attend his cooking class, as in Venice no courses were offered during the summer break, he ate with his peers, what he had cooked and took the train back to Venice in the early afternoon. After a quick shower he went to his dance class. And evenings were either spent at some dinner party with this father, at the gym with his fencing coach or with Adriano who taught him self-defence. Weekends were spent with Marlena at various riding, tennis or sailing clubs or matinees. And always Scipio found himself surrounded by girls.

And since Scipio was so busy, he learnt only from afar what was going on in the Stella. Phone calls to his friends were always very late at night, when most of the gang was sleeping peacefully after a long hard day full of work. And so really Hornet was the only one, who had some contact with their friend and kept him updated.

She amused him with the tale of how the entire gang had ended up at the hairdresser. Only a few days ago Prop had knelt behind Barbarossa's desk with only the back of his head being visible. Before he had been able to stand up and turn around to greet his customers, he had been addressed as _signorina_. An embarrassed Prop had come home that late afternoon, had fetched his brother Bo and the other boys and had gone to the nearest hairdresser to have his hair - he had begun wearing it in a short pony tail by necessity - cut off in a fashionable new and much shorter hairstyle that made him look older than he actually was. Only when he smiled one could see his real age. He had negotiated a good deal with the hairdresser and all four of them left a little while later with new hair styles for the price of two and a half cuts, because Mosca didn't really count with his hair being as frizzy as it was due to his African heritage. And Bo had changed back from being a black Italian devil into a blond angel, albeit a very shorthaired one.

Not so amusing he found the fact that Mona's mother had started to ask about her daughter's boyfriend quite insistently. And Mona was every day a bit more backed into a corner. Time was running out on her and Prop.

And he was downright scared for his friends, when he learnt that one afternoon according to her description of the men, Marcello Fano and a guy from the local water and electricity company had been about to open the side entrance of the Stella, when Hornet had come around the corner, carrying two shopping bags.

_She hadn't known who these men were, but they had been almost in a quarrel, when she had carefully approached them and heard parts of their heated conversation. _

"…_that proves nothing at all."_

"_But the tape in front is intact, the padlock's a bit rusty and this..." Marcello Fano held up a large old-fashioned iron key "…is the only key to the movie theatre. How often do I have to repeat myself, signore Pescatori, that it is impossible that someone lives here. This old building hasn't been entered for ages. There must be a leakage or someone has tapped into the wires and pipes on purpose. Look around yourself. This isn't exactly the richest part of Venice or even Castello."_

"_And I keep telling you that it's completely irrelevant, where we are. You wouldn't believe it, how many times we found that it's not always the poor who do their best to manipulate our supply lines. You say none has entered here. If that's true, please explain the fresh scratch marks at the lock."_

_The short and bespectacled man with black hair in his late forties had pointed at the heavy looking door. _

"_So someone tried to get in. But the fact alone that this door is locked, proves that they haven't got in."_

"_Signore Fano, my company looses hundreds of thousands Euros each year. I insist upon you opening that door and we take a look inside. It can only be in your interest to exclude the possibility of homeless people living under this roof. After all, if something happens to anyone in there, it's your boss who has to deal with the insurance company and the police. And if this place really is deserted, we have to concede faulty supply lines and won't bother you anymore with dunning letters to pay the bills."_

_Marcello had thought a moment. The other man had been right. It had been in their best interest to solve this matter for once and for all._

"_Va bene." He had inserted the key into the lock, had turned it around and had opened the door. They had been about to enter the pitch black darkness, when Hornet had shouted out to them. _

"_HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THIS MOVIE THEATRE IS CLOSED! Me dad says it's so rotten, that it's most probably close to collapse. You can't just enter! Where are your helmets? Where are your flashlights? Me dad says careless people like you cause most accidents on construction sites. Besides, this belongs to dottor Massimo. I suppose he won't like it when people enter without permission."_

_Signor Pescatori had narrowed his eyes. A noisy know-it-all had been the last thing he had needed right now. Besides he had had two other meeting on his agenda still this afternoon and had felt he wouldn't be home on time, if he kept dawdling._

"_What we do here, is of no concern to you, girl."_

_Marcello Fano had shot the man a dark look. _

"_We do have the keys and his permission. Say, do you live close by?"_

_Warily Horne thad looked at him._

"_Why do you want to know? Me dad says I shouldn't tell strangers where I live. Too many dirty old men and too many toffs roam the streets with no good on their minds, me dad says."_

"_Don't worry. We're only interested in this building."_

"_Why?" Hornets heart had raced. Why hadn't Scipio warned them? Or hadn't he known? She had been just glad that the others hadn't been in this afternoon. Prosper had been working and the other boys had been out with Bo at a playground. _

"_Do you want to buy the old pile? Me dad says only an foreign idiot would buy it."_

"_No, nothing of that kind. I'm Marcello Fano and the personal assistant of the dottor. We…it's been reported that strangers have been around here and now we have to check up on it."_

"_He is police?" She had pointed her fingers towards the other man._

"_No. Signor Pescatori is from the water and electricity company. Have you seen any strangers around here? Maybe some vucumpras looking for shelter?" Marcello had referred to the costers who sold cheap fake leather bags and other goods of prestigious fashion labels like Gucci. The poor men mostly came illegally from Africa and were mostly only tolerated at best in the town. _

_Her thoughts had jumped from one idea to the other and had been as quickly dismissed as they had been produced by her imaginative mind in overdrive. She had smelled suddenly her chance, when Marcello had mentioned the vucumpras to convince both men that the Stella was deserted._

"_NIGGERS?!" she had screeched. "Me dad says they shall show only one of their black faces around here and they'll regret it until the end of their worthless lives. We don't want no niggers around here. They're dirty and they can't speak proper Veneziano. They can't even talk proper Italian." Hornet had wrinkled her nose to show her contempt and odium for them._

"_Ahm…yes." Marcello had been taken aback on a personal level. Was this campo a stronghold of the extreme right-winged Lega della Purità Veneziana? However, on business level it might have proved to be a stroke of luck to have met this girl who was still young and naïve enough to parrot unconsidered what the adults preached._

"_And any other kind of strangers? Maybe some homeless?"_

"_Are you mad? This is a decent campo! We don't want any lazy drunk criminal riffraff or foreigners around here. Why do you ask? Are you really no cops? Because if you are, I won't tell you anymore! I know your kind. You try to flatter your way into the community and make us lower our guards and then you sell us out to the liberals. Me dad knows all about you. Just over there a young woman used to live. One day she brought a guy home from over there." Hornet had pointed with her thumb over her shoulder to indicate that his young man had come from the Balkans. "YAK! Isn't that gross?! But her brother put quickly an end to it, says me dad. He beat the guy to an inch of death. And what had happened? Police came and put him into jail! And the scumbag got into hospital, where they spent lots of time and Italian resources on putting him back together instead of shipping him right back to where he had come from. Can you believe that? Francesco repaired the family honour and showed them all what happens if one of them raises their filthy eyes to decent Italian girls and he got convicted to five years for assault. Me dad says, it's just a shame that the scumbag didn't die. He says they shouldn't have sent Francesco to jail but given him a medal for civil courage."_

_Marcello and the man had exchanged grave looks before signor Pescatori had dismissed. Hornets knees had started trembling. Had she overdone it? But these thoughts were hawked in pamphlets of the Lega. One day she had picked up one of it from the pavement and read before she had thrown it into the next trash bin. _

_Slowly Marcello had shut the door again and had locked it. In an area that infected by hate and prejudices, surely no homeless or any other poor soul could last long enough to use water or electricity. _

_Hornet hadn't dared to breath a deep sigh of relief yet._

"_Do you agree that the matter is solved? I think we can safely assume there is really a leakage in the pipes and lines. What ever it is, it has nothing to do with the Stella."_

_The man had nodded defeated. _

"_Let's go. I will report to my superiors accordingly."_

_They had said goodbye to Hornet, who had followed them slowly down the narrow passageway and then had turned left, when they had turned right to walk down the little calle, passing by the sports shop. When she had been finally sure, the men wouldn't return, she hadmade her way hastily back to the Stella and had taken out their duplicate key. Once inside, she just had made it to the main switch before her knees had given out and she had slumped trembling down to the floor, where she had sat for a long time to calm herself. Much later a proud smile had begun to spread on her face and with new energy she had put their provisions away before she left again to buy a huge cake to feast upon with her family. _


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38 **

The sun shone through the high windows and bathed the mixture of modern appliances and old but charming furniture in warm light. Ida was peeling an apple at the old wooden table, when she saw from the corner of her eye her daughter rushing by the kitchen door.

"Mona? Come back, please."

Mona rolled her eyes for a moment in a forced act of teenage rebellion. But it hadn't the desired outcome of making her feeling cool and unconcerned. Slowly she dragged her feet back to the kitchen door, knowing what was to come.

"Where are you going?"

"Out. Meeting friends."

"Who and where?"

"Just some friends. We want to go to the Lido for swimming."

"Just friends? Or just my boyfriend, Mona?" Ida looked sharply at her defiant daughter.

Mona bit her lips.

"Both, I suppose." She answered after a short while looking down at her fiddling fingers. She was ill at ease. Lately her mother made it a sport to corner and question her.

"And when do I need this mysterious boy without a face or a name?"

"God, mom. Not that again! What's this, hmh? An interrogation? You're not Donario, you know."

She tried to cover up her guilty consciousness with drama and flippant answers. Ida took a deep breath trying to stay calm.

"No, I'm not. I'm your mother, who won't tolerate this behaviour of yours for very much longer. I want answers, Mona. I've wanted them for a very long time now. And you're going to give them to me."

"Well, if you've been waiting such a long time for answers, then it won't make much difference, if you just wait a bit longer, hmh?" She retreated step by step. "I'm late anyway. We'll talk later, okay? Bye." She turned around and tried to flee, but her mother's stern voice stopped her in her tracks.

"SIMONA! Come back in here! We're not done yet."

Mona looked carefully around the door frame.

"Come in here and sit down."

"Mom…"

"No mom…Sit down! You know, I've had it with your attitude. Tell me, how many mothers would have kept their silence about this? How many would have let their daughters meet every day, I presume, their boyfriend and not ask? Look, Mona, I thought, give her some time. Let her have her little secret. She will come to you eventually and start telling, bring the boy home, so that we can get to know him."

"Mom…please."

"But you never do. And you never tell. And that makes me really wonder who this boy is and why you hide him from me. Now I understand you're late for your date. I respect it this time once more. BUT, Mona - do you listen? - this has to stop. The next time you go out to meet him, I expect that the bell will ring and that this said boy will step into our house and introduce himself to us. Because if the bell won't ring, you won't go out. Do I make myself clear?"

"Am I grounded?" Mona asked flabbergasted.

"Not yet and don't make me. It hasn't ever been necessary before, Mona, but if you keep violating the rules, I'm going to change them. You're old enough to make this choice and you will bear the consequences of this choice. Not me, you alone. Now leave and think about this."

Mona stood up.

"You know, mom, it's not that simple."

"Maybe. But since you refuse to talk, how can I be the judge of it?" asked Ida harshly. Sometimes it hurt to be a mother and her strictness made her hurt more than Mona. She didn't want to be like this and she felt a stab of anger towards Mona for making her acting like this.

"Mom…?"

Ida had turned her back on her and resumed peeling the apple.

"I'm sorry." Mona said with a small voice.

"I know, Mona, but this time, sorry just isn't enough anymore."

With hanging shoulders Mona left the kitchen and seconds later the door fell shut. Ida let her hands sink. Unseeing she looked at the wall, her appetite gone, heart aching for her daughter. And all of a sudden she missed her own past mother very much to talk to. Just to sit down with a cappuccino in her mother's old kitchen and talk about life and Mona. Listen to the same stories about her own rebellious teenage years and the stories about her early childhood she had heard so often that she didn't know if the pictures in her head were her own memories or if they had been planted there by repetition. She heard steps and then Victor's voice broke the silence Mona had left behind.

"Ida? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything. Mona's just…" She waved her hand in the air and noticed that she still had the knife in a firm grip. She laid it down.

"….a teenager."

"Why is she making it so difficult for me?"

"Because that's her job. Age 13 to 18: annoy the hell out of and oppose your parents and try to give them as little sleep at night as possible while you're out on a party until the wee hours of the morning, hang out with weird people, discover idealism, justice and fairness for all mankind and try to act all grown up, while you're trying to figure out who and what you are and who and what you want to be. Not to mention being as much the victim as the culprit of that hormonal roller coaster."

"Oh, Victor…." Ida smiled. She loved how he was able to make her smile when she was down. The famous writer smiled in return.

"Now, what was it again, why I came? Oh, yes. I have a sudden craving for ice-cream."

"Remember you said you wouldn't eat ice-cream anymore until your scales is your friend again?"

"Well, when I said this I was still in shock from _dottor_ Angiari's diagnosis. So it doesn't count."

He moved steadily towards the fridge.

"Oh no. Stand right where you are, mister. I'm armed and not afraid to use it."

She held up her knife and stepped in front of the fridge.

"Ida, I never knew. Would you really kill me to keep me healthy?" Victor grinned amused.

"Am I in your will?" She asked cheekily.

"No…?"

"Then it's not worth it. I'll just try to sway you with ambrosia."

"With walnuts and a good shot of rum?"

"It's not winter, Victor."

"Well, you have to give me something here, Ida." He almost whined.

She turned around to fetch the fruit basket.

"Here. Make your choice." She answered smugly and dropped the basket into his hands. He hastened to tighten his grip.

"Hey! That's foul play." His eyes twinkled.

"Oh yes? And what are you going to do about it? Arrest me for it, officer?"

"Can't. I left my badge in the States. I'll just lay you over my knee and give you a good spanking."

Victor put the basket down and stepped towards her with a mean expression that was belied by his laughing eyes.

"Oh no. You wouldn't dare…." She held up again her knife, laughing.

"Now come on. Show me that you mean it." And with a flick of his wrist he had disarmed her. The knife fell down to the floor and skidded over the tiles before it collided with the cupboard.

"Now what, missy?" He asked menacingly.

"Screaming for help?" Ida whispered.

"Not much use, if I put my hand over your mouth…just like this." And with a sudden tug he had her pressed against him with his hand covering her mouth. She went limp in his embrace and the smile left her eyes. Unexpectedly sexual tension flared up between them. Realising the compromising situation he let her immediately go and stepped away.

"I'm sorry, Ida. I shouldn't have…I was totally out of line. I'm sorry."

"No, it's my fault, too, Victor. I'm sorry, too." She smiled tentatively at him.

"No, don't be. I'm…. " And with a helpless shrug he turned around and left the crime scene.

"…a stupid cow." Ida concluded angrily. She picked up the knife and rammed it viciously into the apple.

"….a bloody idiot." Victor berated himself and picked up his pencil holder as closest object to throw it against the wall. At the last second he managed to hold himself back. He didn't want the noise to alert Ida. Instead he ripped off some paper from a pad and balled up to throw it into the waste paper basket, which wasn't half as satisfying, but at least quiet.

Both were left to ponder the question what on Earth had just happened, why it happened and what it really meant.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

_Phase III of a desperate father's plan…_

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT AND THE ACTIONS OF THE PROTAGONISTS ARE MOST PROBABLY ILLEGAL IN MOST JURISDICTIONS AND NOT TO BE TAKEN LIGHTLY IN ANY CASE.

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Lorenzo Massimo rose from his desk and walked over to the very beautiful and classy woman who didn't look a day older than eighteen.

"Thank you for coming,_signorina_ Selena." He greeted her. 

"Don't mention it,_dottore_." She was utter charm with a pleasant voice. Lorenzo was very satisfied with his first impression. Signora Ornella still employed only the best in her establishment. 

"_Signora_ Ornella has briefed you, I presume?"

"She indicated that your son would benefit from a little female encouragement to sort out his feelings."

He smiled briefly. 

"I'm at my wit's end,_signorina_. I've tried everything. I think half of the female population of Venice age 13-17 paraded in front of my son and he doesn't even blink an eye and tells me flat out he's not interested."

Selena smiled emphatically and turned serious.

"_Dottore_, you must know, if…"

"Scipio." He provided quickly.

"…Scipio really is homosexual, then no woman will ever be able to change that. You will have to accept this."

"I do know that. But he's only sixteen. He doesn't know yet what he truly wants. And I have… heard things, certain evidence to support this thesis otherwise … I just would like to offer him the chance to experience a woman. I know he's under age and this is morally and legally at least highly questionable, if not downright illegal, and under normal circumstances I wouldn't even dream of going to these lengths and ask you to compromise…. your principles, but .." He opened his arms in a helpless and desperate gesture.

"Please, _dottore_, he's your son and you only want what you think is best for Scipio. I'm not here to judge but to help. Does he know I'm coming?"

"No. I didn't know how to tell him. Maybe you….?"

"Certainly." She smiled gracefully. 

"Please, _signorina_ Selena. I don't care what it takes or how long it takes, help my son find himself. Please."

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Scipio looked up from his first homework of the new school year when he heard knocking. He hadn't paid much attention to this particular school subject anyway, since he was way ahead of his peers. Instead he had been daydreaming about Annia. Tomorrow they would meet for the first time since the summer holidays had started and he simply couldn't wait any longer. There was a hunger in him for her that was frightening. Besides they had much to discuss. 

So much had happened since then, the situation with the Scarface that required some careful thinking, the ultimatum Mona's mother had given her. What was the best way to deal with the other gang? No reaction at all? But wouldn't that be a sign of weakness? They, no, _he_ couldn't afford to seem weak. He was the Thief Lord. His reputation and aura protected them. Show up on Murano and walk right into the lion's dent? But wouldn't that be out of proportion? Besides, he couldn't defend himself against an entire gang. He wasn't some TV hero, who knocked out a bunch of crooks with a few cool moves. And Prosper…. he was quick and he was strong, but without any experience in street fighting or self-defence except for the usual harmless little scraps between friends. He wouldn't be of much help to him in a critical situation. And what could they do to help Mona in her predicament? 

"Come." He called out.

Surprised he rose, when a petite and slender girl entered his room. 

"Hi, I'm Selena. I thought we could talk a bit, if you have time?"

She smiled openly and friendly at him. Scipio didn't know what to make out of this and nodded finally. Selena looked around to find a starting point and finally she turned towards the boy standing next to his desk. 

"School's started again?"

"Yesterday. It's my final year, before I enlist at San Martino Military School."

Selena stepped closer to take a look at the opened book.

"Ah, German. Very ambitious! Used to drive me crazy. I gave up after two years and took Spanish."

"I've just started. It's something different." He shrugged.

"Let's see, what I remember. Der Tisch, das Fenster, die Sonne. Die Katze liegt auf dem Bett." Selena pointed towards his desk, window, the sun and Andromeda snoozing on the bed. 

"Sounds pretty good to me." Scipio complimented her. 

Even if he didn't know yet what she wanted from him, he gradually relaxed a bit in her presence. Selena walked over to the bed and sat down. 

"Can I pat her or will she scratch me? I like cats very much. They have their own minds."

"No, go ahead. She's very friendly and cuddly. Her name's Andromeda."

Almost immediately Andromeda started to purr under Selena's expert touch. 

"You do some fencing?" Selena rose her voice and nodded towards his fencing equipment.

"Ahm, yes."

"Are you good?"

"I guess so…"

"Why don't you come and sit down next to me? I'd rather not raise my voice. It might annoy Andromeda and out of the blue I'll have a scratch to prove it."

She patted the duvet next to her. Scipio hesitated. What was going on here? Who was she anyway? 

"Don't be shy. I don't bite."

She laughed softly. Guarded Scipio sat down on the edge of his bed. He got a bad feeling about her.

"See? No one's hurt."

She looked at him calculating and appreciatively. It wasn't that often that she got a treat like this in her line of work. 

"You know, you're really handsome."

She reached out to gently touch his cheek with a finger. Scipio flinched. No, he didn't like this one bit. From the corner of his eye he saw her moving closer, a cloud of her alluring perfume assaulted his senses and a soft mouth traced the lines of his cheek. Selena felt him tense up and she smiled inwardly. So, he wasn't impervious to her female charms after all. Encouraged she laid a hand on his thigh. 

"What are you doing?" Scipio asked alarmed.

Behind the door Lorenzo smiled pleased, when he heard his son's strangled voice. He stepped away, convinced that Selena had the situation under control and he wasn't needed here, feeling an odd mixture of pride and melancholy. Tonight his son would become a man. 

Selena inched her hand higher.

"I like you." She whispered into his ear before she kissed his ear lobe.

This was not happening, a frozen Scipio told himself. This was just not happening. His father would NOT send a professional to him. Just because he refused to date girls. Feeling his body starting to react Scipio shot up to put some distance between him and the girl. Selena was surprised. This she really hadn't expected. She had felt his response to her, yet he was skittish. It seemed she had to get a bit more forceful. She reached back and got rid of the clip that held her hair up. In a practised move she shook her head to let it fall down her back. 

"That's better, isn't it?"

Scipio stepped back until he felt the hard edge of his desk. Selena stood up to come closer and began to open the first buttons of her blouse. Wide-eyed Scipio followed her every move. His mouth dropped a bit, when he caught his first glance ever of a strip of real naked flesh encased in a bra. Alluringly Selena shrugged of her blouse. He felt hot and his breathing wasn't too steady anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut. Annia and he hadn't come this far yet. Selena smiled. She almost had him now. A flick with her fingers and her bra fell down to the floor on her way over to him. 

Scipio felt her hand pry his loose, where he had clamped it into the desk's edge, and then he felt soft roundness and warmth. Reflexively he tightened his hand and heard a pleased sigh. Registering what exactly he held in his hand, he opened his eyes again in shock and dropped his hand as if burnt. 

"NO!"

He flew to his fencing equipment.

"Ready to defend your honour?" Selena was thoroughly amused. 

"Please… I don't want this."

"Your body tells different, Scipio." She stalked him and backed him into a corner. "Stop fighting your desires, _caro_. You will see how wonderful it is with a girl and you will forget all these confusing feelings."

She tried to kiss him, but he turned his head away. 

"No! Leave me alone."

Selena caressed his chest and slipped her hands under the layers of his school uniform.

"Please, don't. Annia…" Scipio whispered tortured.

Stunned Selena immediately removed her hands.

"Annia?"

Scipio didn't answer, just bid his lips.

"Who's Annia? Your girl-friend?" 

He looked at her like a cornered and frightened animal. Selena stepped back to reassess the situation. If the boy really had a girl-friend, then why did his father thought his son was gay? And if he had a girl-friend, it was no wonder, he wasn't interested in _other_ girls.

"She is your girl-friend and your father doesn't know, does he?" She stepped back and picked up her underwear, refastened the clip and put her blouse on, but let it hang open. 

"Why don't you tell your father about Annia? Are you ashamed of her? Wouldn't your father approve?"

"No! I'd shout it from the rooftops, if I could." Came the quiet protest from the corner.

"Come over here, Scipio. I promise, I won't do anything." Her voice adopted a motherly quality. "Tell me."

"Annia's mother is dead against me." Now that Selena had stepped back, he began to relax again…a bit. 

"Why? You're a Massimo. What mother would disapprove?"

"The mother who wants to have her daughter become a nun."

"So you keep this a secret? Let dozens of girls parade in front of you. Have your father even send for me to set you straight because you let him think you're gay? So that he's not surprised that there's never a girl asking for you at your door? All for her?"

Scipio nodded shyly but proudly.

"If that isn't love." Selena smiled benignly. "Your Annia must be really special. How long are you together?"

"Almost five months!" 

Scipio's smile fell and his face hardened.

"Will you tell my father?"

Selena smiled conspiratorially, while she buttoned up her blouse.

"I see no reason why I should, if you don't tell I've failed."

"Failed?"

"Failed to seduce you. You know, that's the first time. I think I feel a bit offended in my vocational honour." She winked to soften the accusation and sat down on his bed again.

"Ahm, I'm sorry?" Scipio tried to apologize lopsided. 

"No, you're not!" Feeling like a teenager again for a moment, she threw his pillow at him and caught her breath, unprepared for the toe-curling smile she got in return. 

"Oh boy, you're really too handsome for your own good." She laughed, all traces of a seductress gone.

Now secure in the knowledge she wouldn't try something again, he plopped down at the other end of his bed. 

"And what happens now?"

"Now I'm going to earn my fee….Easy, Scipio….all in good theory. A special girl should be treated in a very special way. You'll be privy to the knowledge of a woman's highest pleasure some men sadly never obtain in their entire life. I'm going to give you some lectures concerning hygiene, the male and female reproductive organs, the art of seduction, foreplay, protection and the actual love act. It's up to you to put this knowledge into practise with her…sooner or later."

Scipio blushed crimson, but braved it out.

"Shall I take notes?" He grinned cheekily at her.

Selena burst out laughing.

"Only if you want to make some drawings…."

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The sun had sunken into the_laguna_ long ago and stars sprinkled the night sky, when Lorenzo heard laughter and footsteps pass his studio door. He stood up and entered the hall. 

Next to the in-house fountain Selena turned around to Scipio. 

"So, one last lecture….we have to prepare you a bit. After all, you've just had the experience of your lifetime these past hours. Wouldn't want to disappoint your father in case he's going to intercept you on your way back." She grinned and winked.

"Loose the sweater and the shoes and socks have to go."

Resolutely she pulled his shirt out of his trousers and tousled his hair even more. 

"Now, here we go. Open a few buttons up and down. It needs to look as if you just pulled on the bare necessities to escort me to the door….yes, that's it. NOW you look like a few hours well spent."

Scipio chuckled while shaking his head. 

"You know, I can't believe that my father really sent for you to _rescue_ me."

"He was fully prepared to commit a crime tonight for you. He loves you, _caro_."

Scipio turned thoughtful for a moment with hope on his face but then shook his head.

"No, he doesn't. He's only concerned about honour and that the family tree will prosper. But whatever his motives, what were yours? If he commits a crime, so do you, since you tried to corrupt an innocent youth." He smiled. 

Selena looked unseeing at the door, before she smiled a bit melancholically. 

"Let's say, my life might have taken another direction, if the boy I had sex with when we were your age had known what he was doing. But then again, it might not have. Most of the time I really like my profession. And what's more, I _chose_ it out of free will. Not like so many unfortunate others who were forced or dragged into this." Her smile turned bright again. Scipio nodded understandingly.

"Good night, Selena and thanks for everything." He kissed her softly on her cheek.

"Good night, _caro_. Now be a good pupil and make your Annia happy, when the time has come. Remember, nice and slow until she indicates or tells you otherwise."

Scip nodded. 

"I'll remember. Don't worry. I let her set the pace. Although it might kill me." He grimaced for a second.

"Self-control, _caro_. Try to practice on self-control." She smiled encouragingly at him as goodbye.

On his way back he was indeed greeted by his father, who had folded his hands in front of his abdomen as usually when he scolded Scipio. Lorenzo took in the dishevelled state of his son and was satisfied. 

"Everything alright?"

"Yes, father. Good night."

"Good night, young man."

Scipio blinked. Was there really the ghost of a smile on his father's face?


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

_Romeo and Julia in Venice…Act I_

Mona observed the fishes in her aquarium. They swam from one side to the other, going in circles. She sighed a bit envious of them. Their life was easy. No predators to fear, always enough food, oxygen and warmth. When she heard the door bell ringing downstairs, she turned her head for a second in mad hope, but then she concentrated again on her fish. It wasn't for her anyway. Prosper couldn't ring the door bell. It was too dangerous for him to come. Her mother would ask too many questions, they couldn't dare answer. Since her mother's ultimatum, she hadn't been alone with her boyfriend for more than a few minutes when she walked to school and back home, since she was indeed effectively grounded since he couldn't come visit. And it started to take its toll on her. She missed _them_, and they just didn't know what to do. Couldn't find a solution for this problem. Besides, the others needed her support in teaching the group.

A knock on her door steered her attention back to the world outside her room. She heard the voice of their cook Lucia through the door.

"Mona, there's a young man come to see you."

And then the door opened and someone familiar entered. Disbelieving Mona rose slowly and walked up to her guest.

"You?!"

„Now, is this the proper way to greet your boy-friend?" And she had to smile, when the owner's trademark smirk underlined the statement. "I even brought flowers for you and your mother."

"Charmer." She took gracefully the single red rose and coyly she held it up to her nose to breathe in its heady fragrance.

"You know, this is actually the first time someone has given me flowers." She was a bit embarrassed.

"Prosper would shower you with flowers, if he only had the money. You know that." Scipio put the other flowers down onto a shelf by the door, shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped shyly further into the room.

"No, he wouldn't." She smiled. "Prop would give me plants, because I don't like dead things. Besides it's more important that the family doesn't have to go hungry to bed. And he knows anyway that I know that he loves me without having to prove it with gifts."

Scipio nodded sheepishly. Unlike many other parents Lorenzo kept his son on a comparatively small budget, so he would learn to spend his money more consciously and separate real need and wishes from whims. Yet, he had never really needed to think twice in his life, if he could afford things. If he really wanted something more expensive, he asked his grandparents for it. But since Scipio had begun to contribute two-thirds of his pocket-money to the household budget of the his family for he didn't dare steel from his home anymore, he had learnt the bitter feeling of disappointment of not being able to afford things as easily as before. And strangely it had brought him even closer to the group of orphans.

"I'm sorry, about the rose that is. I didn't know."

"Don't be. I really, really like the thought behind it. And she's beautiful."

"But as your boy-friend I should know about such things, shouldn't I?"

"Scip, stop getting upset over this. If my mother asks, I'll just tell her that you couldn't help yourself for once being the romantic that you are. I guess, you'd be really the one to shower a girl with flowers, am I right?"

She hit him playfully to put him and herself at ease. It was obvious that despite of everything Scipio didn't feel comfortable in her presence, in her room and neither felt she. She smelled again the rose.

"Tell me, why you're here. Is this another crazy idea of Prop and you?"

"No, this is actually all mine. Being the romantic that I am, I can't stand watching you both being so unhappy. Your mother wants to meet a boy-friend, so we give her one – me."

"And what do Prop and Annia think about it? I assume you talked it over with them first. And what do you think, I think about this idea of yours?"

Scipio grimaced and blushed a bit.

"Annia is a bit on edge over the idea of Prop and I anyway and we haven't had much time to really talk it through yet. But as this serves to help you to be together again, she's more or less okay with it. Besides, if Prop agrees to help us to be together, it's only fair, if I help out you guys a bit. And what's the big deal anyway? I say hello to your mother, endear myself to her, and then it's done. She's got a name and a face and is satisfied. Your house arrest is over and we're all happy again. So what do you think?" Proud on himself, he looked at her for approval.

"I think it's a great idea. Actually you're perfect. Since Victor warned me off of you because of last September - you remember - it would be only logical, why I hid you all these months."

"He warned you off? Why?"

"Well, you know…. Because of your father." Ashamed she couldn't meet his eyes.

"Because of my father?" He looked questioning at her, before understanding dawned on his face. "I see." He answered neutrally.

"Look, I know it sounds bad and is bad, but they don't know you. They can only judge from what they think they know about you and your story. Please, don't hold it against them."

Scipio looked out of her window. Once more the shadow of _dottor_ Lorenzo Massimo was larger than his life. Once more he had been judged based on the fact that he was his father's son and not on the person _he_ was. Tentatively Mona laid a hand on his shoulder. Eventually he turned to her.

"It's okay. I won't hold it against them. They mean well. It just makes me so angry sometimes. It's as if _I_'m invisible. They only hear Massimo and immediately they have a picture of me in their head of how I am, of what I think and believe in. They perceive only the role and not the man. I think, I could pierce my body, get tattoos, get hooked on drugs, get drunk every night, become a criminal or sleep around or what else, and still they would think I'd do it only to spit_e him _and feel compassion for the hardships _dottor_ Massimo has to bear with such a wayward son."

"Prop sees _you_. Annia sees _you_. We all see _you_, when we look at you. Not the role of the son, but the man. We're a family with just Scipio. And soon everyone else will only see _you_, too. You will step out of your father's shadow and show them all, who Scipio Massimo really is. And if they don't like what they see, it's their loss, not yours."

A true smile appeared on his face.

"Once more I'm reminded of why Prop thinks the world of you." Scipio complimented her sincerely. " My, my, am I not lucky to be your boy-friend?" He bantered.

"My, my, aren't you the busy bee? Annia, Prop and now I. Think you can handle your harem?" She countered.

Scip laughed and made a face.

"Since it's all just pretend with you and Prop and more or less a one-time thing, I'll manage. Besides, Annia threatened to remember her Sicilian blood from her mother's side and kill me, if make a false move with you. But Prop came to my aid….kind of anyway."

"Did he now?" She wasn't sure, if she liked that Prop obviously had no qualms to watch his best friend pretend to be in love with his girlfriend.

"Yes, he told Annia that she would have to draw a number and go to the back of the row. Because he would get to me first and then the gloves would come off, that much he promised me. An angry Prosper is for no one a pretty sight. And I know Annia's wild temper. So I'm navigating between Scylla and Charybdis here when I only have selflessly the best intentions in mind." He mock-pouted.

Mona chuckled, satisfied that Prosper would put her first over his friendship with Scipio.

„Poor you! Typical prejudice that the boy would be to blame. It could as easily be that the girl instigates the straying."

"Really? Are you the siren to lure me into my doom?" Now he grinned naughtily and winked.

"Not a snowball's chance in hell that you will ever hear me singing!" She kissed the air and Scipio laughed.

Scipio looked curiously around. It was the first time that he was in a girl's room. Now that he the ice had melted he could take in what he had previously seen only peripherally. A large aquarium dominated the room with lots of little fishes and a miniature reef and the walls were decorated by posters of colourful reef fishes and delicate corals. The book shelf contained books on the underwater world while the many plants were in full bloom. Mona followed his wandering gaze.

"You look puzzled. Not what you expected?"

"Actually, I don't know what I really expected. All pink? And posters of some teen stars and horses or cute puppy dogs?"

Mona grinned.

"And what about you? How many posters of speed boats, racing cars or motor bikes, wrestling stars and hot babes grace your walls? Do you sleep in the bed linen of your favourite football club?"

"None and I sleep in white Egyptian cotton."

"See?"

"Point taken….You're interested in the oceans and the underwater world?"

"Yes. I think I may want to study something like this later. Do research on the Great Barrier Reef. It's absolutely fascinating and we have to do everything we can to protect it from ourselves. A reef is such a fragile ecological system."

"You don't have to fly to the antipodes to find fragile ecological systems. Just take a look at the state of the _laguna_. We glass manufacturers are liable to the strictest environmental laws, yet the petrochemical industry over in Mestre and Maghera can pump almost uncontrolled whatever waste products they have into the _laguna_. This is so unfair! Father has been fighting for the same laws to be applicable to them for years, but even _he_ is powerless."

Mona nodded. It was as common knowledge as the fact that things wouldn't change soon. The chemical lobby was too strong and corruption was the name of the game.

"And you? What are your plans?"

"Don't have much choice, have I? But if I could do, what I wanted, I think I'd like to join the police. Become a detective or something like that. I like to solve riddles and snoop around. Ghost through the city and track people."

"And protect your fellow citizens and try to make things right that aren't." Mona observed and caused Scipio to blush a bit. The way she told it, it was as if he suffered from some kind of superhero complex.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to embarrass or make fun of you." Mona looked down a bit ashamed, when she sensed his hurt. "And I think what you do deserves a lot of admiration. Not many would do what you do to help or for love."

Their eyes met briefly and both looked away quickly again.

"Strange, isn't it?" She spoke again.

„What?"

„This. This is the first time we really talk to each other, although we're constantly together in a way."

"Ahm, you're right." He shrugged slightly. What was there to say? There wasn't much time or need to really talk to each other when they had their respective partners and their busy schedule to keep in mind while trying to juggle two separate lives. Mona sighed.

"Ahm, this sounds weird, but would you give me a hug, please?"

"What? Why?"

"Because we have to feel more comfortable in each other's presence in order to deceive my mother."

Scipio nodded and held out his hand. Mona took it and stepped into his arms for a short while.

"Okay now?"

"Okay. Come on, let's get over with the show."

Holding hands they stepped out her room.

_to be continued in Act II - meet the parents_


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

**comments: I'd like to give my heartfelt thanks to all of you out there who have clicked presently over 5000 times on my story. That's a fantastic compliment and an inducement to keep on writing.**

_Romeo and Juliet in Venice… Act II_

They walked down the corridor towards a half-open door. From behind they could hear the fast clicking of a computer keyboard and Victor's voice telling someone the rough outline of a new _Commissario Donario_ crime novel. Mona signalled Scipio to wait with his small bouquet of flowers behind the door for his prompt. Then she knocked and stuck her head into the room.

"Do I disturb you, mom, Victor?"

"No, come in. I'm just dictating the new story outline to your mother for my publisher. But if it's important, we take a break and your mother can relax her agile fingers."

"What's up, sweetie?"

Mona fiddled with her fingers. What if they weren't convincing enough? She took a deep breath. Do it for Prosper, she gave herself a quick pep talk. Behind his door Scipio experienced an equally bad case of cold feet. Which devil had he listened to? He was already about to plead temporary insanity and call everything off when Mona decided for him.

„Mom… you always wanted to know, who my boyfriend is. And I've always refused to tell. I know I've hurt and worried you by this, but we didn't see how to tell without you getting mad…. we wanted to be sure about each other, before we face the storm... Mom, Victor, meet…" She pulled him into the room from behind the door. …"Scipio Massimo."

Both gripped their hands tightly together. The next moments would decide over their destiny, that is the destiny of Mona and Prosper.

"Good afternoon, signora Spavento, signor Getz." Scipio walked a step towards Ida and gave her the flowers.

Taken by surprise, yet touched Ida took them. She was undecided of what to think about him and her daughter being a couple.

"They're beautiful, Scipio. Thank you very much. So, you're the mysterious boy-friend…" she addressed him carefully.

Victor frowned. Hadn't they told Mona to keep her distance and that the boy was bad news? But being a teenage girl it probably was half the attraction for Mona. He looked over his glasses to the boy, who had taken Mona's hand again. Scipio's gaze turned from Ida to Victor to meet his evenly and composed. No trace of submissiveness nor rebellious arrogance. His gaze signalled Victor that he was ready to take the blame, but not to feel guilty.

„What's this? Romeo and Juliet in Venice?"

"No, to commit suicide over a forbidden love is quite outdated in our opinion. We'd just kept it a secret. His father wouldn't exactly be thrilled either, if he ever learnt. So please don't tell. He's got it already difficult enough at home."

"Why? There's nothing wrong with you." Ida came immediately to her defence, mad at the arrogant man from next door.

"Nothing at all, except being poor – the daughter of a domestic to say it brutally honest. My father is deathly afraid I might fall into the clutches of a gold digger. For him it's the only explanation why a girl would want to be with me." Scipio snorted.

"And I WANT to be with him and he with me. And if…" Her grip on Scipio's hand got tighter and a defiant look entered her eyes. Scipio freed his hand and embraced her tightly. Mona wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I…don't know what to say." Ida gave an embarrassed laugh. "How long? Since spring?"

"Since February." Scipio answered loud and clear.

Ida looked sharply at him. So many months… what had they already done besides holding hands? She would have to talk to her daughter about _things_ as soon as possible, if it wasn't already too late. She didn't trust the quality of academic education or the one of exaggerations and half-truths in her circle of teenage friends. And she would make an appointment for her with her gynaecologist Ida decided, then looked at Victor to gauge his thoughts about this couple in front of them. But his gaze was fixed on Scipio, who didn't flinch or crumpled under the hard stare of an US-American ex-police officer. For once in his life Scipio was thankful to his father's hard school of holding himself up under pressure. Victor began to reassess him. Why didn't the boy stand up to his father? Was he perhaps ashamed of Mona?! Did he just use her to satisfy his baser urges? No, Victor decided a moment later. It was never easy to stand up to a man, who was used to things getting done his way and his opinion perceived as unwritten law by the city and its citizens. He shouldn't expect more of the boy than of what he did from everyone else. Overall he didn't know what to make of all this.

„This is your decision, Ida…" Victor said, when he caught her eyes.

"Please don't be angry, mom…."

Ida sighed. "I'm not angry. Actually I'm rather disappointed."

Mona looked questioningly at her.

„I'm disappointed in me that I obviously made you hide Scipio from us. I had to prod and coerce. I feel like a failure. I used to think I was open minded enough that you'd feel comfortable to tell me anything. And now I have to face the truth that you don't trust me."

"I wanted to tell you, but I just couldn't."

"I understand, sweetie. But you don't know how worried I've been about you. You can't know how it feels to be a mother that has a daughter that leaves late afternoon, stays out until curfew and never tells, where she goes and what she does. And if she does, she lies! Don't disavow it! You know she's a good girl and she knows right from wrong, but there is peer pressure and the normal curiosity of a teenager and the desire to rebel and experiment. And there is such a lot of evil in the world you don't know about yet. And so you lie awake in the night and worry."

"But mom, you know me. I wouldn't do anything wrong… Don't you trust me?"

"Mona, I DO know you and I DO trust you. But these worries are stronger than I. I… can't help it. It's a parents' thing."

"Signora Spavento, I don't know of how much worth my word is to you. But please believe me, I'd rather hurt myself than hurt Mona. She's safe with me."

Scipio looked at Mona and pushed a strand behind her ear with an affectionate smile and Mona rubbed his shoulder in a tender gesture and an answering smile.

Ida and Viktor exchanged glances. The boy was probably mistreated by his father…could he be really trusted to take care of Mona and not hurt her? Yet…there was something about him that made you trust and like him.

"Okay. Mona, thank you for telling us. Scipio, I don't have any objections that you are together. And I hope, we will see more of you from now on and from you, too, Mona. After all you still live here."

The latter was not as friendly said as the former sentence, and there was clear warning implicated.

Alarmed Scip and Mona exchanged glances. Apart from the minor detail of NOT being together they simply had no time for social visits with her mother or spent any time together at hers.

"Ahm, mom, we do have some friends we see regularly and frequently and then we go to the beach and stuff. Then there is school and I see my girl friends, despite of what you think now…"

Ida laughed at the hasty excuses and the panic in their eyes and in her daughter's voice.

"I see, so you don't want to sit and hold the hands of your mother while having afternoon teas with me."

Victor spoke up.

"Scipio, we trust you with Mona. I think we have an understanding that you won't get her into _any _kind of trouble. Otherwise you will have to answer to _me_." He stared at Scipio almost threateningly. Scipio nodded.

"Good, then off you go to have some fun."

Ida smiled. Quickly she hugged Mona and Scipio, too. Spontaneously she pulled his head down and kissed his parting. When he pulled his head back hastily and looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights she felt her heart breaking a bit for him. Silently she wondered how little love and affection he must have experienced in his life to be so startled.

_to be continued...with "From Rome with love"  
_


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

_Comment: Originally I planned to publish "From Roma with love" first and then "This boy is mine", but then I thought that from the dramaturgical point of view this sequence is better and more logical._

_So here comes "This boy is mine"._

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Carrying two glasses of water, one for Mona and one for him, Prosper passed the other couple of the Star Family without paying attention to their hissing voices. He concluded that Scipio and Annia were having one of their usual insignificant "discussions".

Only giving them a passing look he stopped dead in his tracks. He was completely flabbergasted. Scipio, the picture of miserable compliancy, looked unsure back and saw how Prosper's facial expression turned questioning and Scipio's face got a reddish hue in turn. Annia glowed proudly and Mona was thoroughly amused and grinned widely, as she looked up and realised why Prosper stood rooted to the spot in the middle of the cinema. Her face fell a bit when Prosper began to show fascinated _interest_. Which astounded Scipio but his astonishment turned quickly into dawning understanding. An inviting smile brightened up his face. The boys starred into each others eyes and the girls couldn't help but getting the impression that the boys' Universe had dramatically narrowed down to two. Still carrying the glasses in his hands Prosper stepped hesitatingly towards Scip, when the other boy crooked his pointy finger in a "come here" gesture.

Now the other members of the Family also realised that there was something unusual happening in front of their eyes and school books were ignored as they all stared at Scipio and Prosper.

Like as a passing thought Prosper put down the glasses at the edge of screen stage and ignored that they were unbalanced and congruously fell promptly down with a soft thump, cushioned by the red carpet that was turning dark where the water created wet spots. He was firmly focused on Scipio. Prosper bent down to Scipio in his seat and took his chin into his hand to turn Scipio's head from one side to the other to catch the various effects of different light.

"Wow!" he commented finally. "You look….wow!"

Scip smiled his lazy, sensual smile that made Annia's insides explode into a ball of fire on a regular basis.

"You like?" He whispered.

"….yeah…The green eye-shadow highlights your chocolate eyes..." Prosper whispered back throatily not taking his eyes off his friend.

"Good." Scipio liked his lips and grimaced a bit, when he tasted the lipstick on them.

"Doesn't taste too good on your own lips, hmh?" Prosper began to caress Scipio's cheek with his thumb.

"No. Do you have any suggestions how to get rid of it?" Scipio's voice adopted the quality of molten, velvety rich chocolate.

"Lots of. _Interested_ to hear?"

"Do they require the help of an _interested_ party?"

"Most definitely."

"Then I'm most definitely _interested_ in _exploring _your different ideas of removing the colour from my lips."

Scipio stood up and for a moment the boys stood close to each other, before Scipio side-stepped his friend and sauntered over to the hall that lead to the bathrooms. As if he felt Prosper's burning gaze on his derriere, he half turned around once more and rested his hand on his invitingly angled hip.

"Coming?"

"…almost there…" Prosper breathed once more and hastened to step up to Scipio. Their hands brushed against each other just a tad too casual and too often as they moved down the hall, leaving stunned silence in their wake.

Unbelieving the girls stared at their retreating backs. Mona's face graced again a wide amused grin, but Annia frowned deeply.

"Whoohoo! What a show! These two are really some actors. So much to my assessment that they can't produce any credible sexual tension between them. Wow! I think, if I had held a light-bulb between them, it would have lighted up from all this electricity. But they should tone it down a bit for your mother. It won't do, if they look and act as if they were ready to rip off each other clothes any second now."

"You think it was all an act?"

"Certainly it was. What else? You should have seen Scipio with my mother and Victor yesterday. Every inch the Romeo. Proud, honourable, rebellious, not in the least intimidated, caring and tender. He's left a very good impression with my mom and even Victor is mollified. My only concern is now that I call Scipio Prosper in front of them and Prosper Scipio in a wrong moment." She grinned.

"Hmh…" Annia could only muster a half-smile in return.

Bo's question of where the boys had gone to and why Scipio had worn make-up led to several more questions that weren't easily answered. What made complete sense to the older girls made none at all to the children in their group. And Bo's many why's didn't help their case. Eventually Riccio tipped against his head to indicate, that he still thought the elder ones of the Family had lost their minds. The others looked at each other and nodded. Yet Hornet was thoughtful. Why was it so important to Scipio that the Venturis accepted him as a part of Annia's life – even if it was only as the gay friend of hers? As much as she knew Prosper had never given any thought of picking up Mona from her home. It wasn't possible for him to ring her bell, so they just side-stepped the problem. So what was the real deal with Scipio? Once more the girl couldn't shake off the impression that what she just had heard and seen wasn't the full story. She knew the elder ones didn't tell them everything, like who _Grandmother_ or _Renzo_ really were or where the ominous _beach_ was. Or what had really happened the night Scipio and Prosper had gone to meet the _conte _a second time to get their money. She recalled the outrageous story about the _conte_ collecting all kinds of winged lions and other memorabilia of the old Republic of Venice, dirt-poor but fanatic and unable to pay them with real money. And maybe she was the only one around here to really notice, that they were often kept in the dark or deliberately misinformed. Sometimes she felt as if she was falling through the cracks and it irked her. For the older ones she was a still half a child that couldn't be trusted with the really big issues and secrets, and for the younger members of the family she was one of the grown-ups – mother matron. A title the twins and the girls used with a twinkle in their eyes, but for Riccio and Bo it was true enough. Sometimes she thought Mosca, next to her in age, understood her, but then again he said something that showed that he was often as immature and childish as Riccio and Bo.

Annia's gaze strayed repeatedly over to the deserted hall.

"What takes them so long in there?"

"They probably chat, pardon – exchange information, and analyse if they tricked us. They told us, they would do it, when we expected it the least for full effect. And with you putting on make-up on Scipio, you gave the boys a first class point of attack. Why did you do it anyway?"

"Seemed like a funny idea back then, when we discussed their plan to trick my mother. If I had known what would happen next, I would have never done it." Had she released the proverbial bottle imp that couldn't be put back?

"Have you Scipio already told that you won't be in Venice for the week-end?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"What do you think?" Annia answered wryly.

"Let me guess: he's flipped out?"

"No, strangely enough he didn't. I mean, I would have loved to spend some time alone with him on Saturday, but I haven't seen my best friend from Rome in months. I haven't been a best or even just a good friend for her since I became involved with the Family and Scip. I owe it to her." Even Annia heard the justification in her voice.

"Hey, no need to apologise to me. But if Scipio is okay with it…."

"I think he truly understands me and accepts it, though he's also very disappointed, I think. And I'm, too. We haven't really been alone since the evening before I went to the cloister with my mother."

Mona nodded understandingly. Some things didn't need to be spelled out. The girls fell silent, watching the deserted hall and lost in their own thoughts.

"Mona?"

"Hmh?"

"Did you see Prosper's face earlier?"

"Hmh."

"Don't…don't you think…?"

"No."

"Right."

They fell silent again.

"On the other hand Scipio…" Annia spoke up again. She just couldn't give it a rest.

"No way."

"But he looked really, really good. Like a girl."

"Yes, he did. Make-up can create the most amazing effects. So what?"

"I wonder…"

"Stop it. That's what they want us to do. Start wondering. Start doubting."

"And you don't?"

"No."

"Why don't you? I mean, they were so…_so_." Annia gestured vaguely.

"Because I know and trust Prosper."

"But…"

"No buts. You're playing right into their hands."

"Right. You're absolutely right. Still…." Maybe it worked for Mona, but Mona also didn't know what Annia knew. That the boyfriend she had left for the summer wasn't the same boyfriend she had returned to.

"For God's sake, Annia! This is Prosper and Scipio we're talking about." Mona rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Exactly! This is Scipio and Prosper. The two boys, who are so attuned to each other that they can practically read each others thoughts."

"So? Can't you read your boyfriend as well by just looking at him?"

"Yes, I can. And that's exactly my point. My BOYFRIEND, Mona, not my PAL."

"What are you insinuating here? That they have a secret love affair? Come on, that's ridiculous."

"Oh yeah? Is it really? And whose boyfriend wanted to give my boyfriend a kiss to seal their friendship? Whose boyfriend stuffed his hand into a place only I have the right to touch? Whose boyfriend came up with the idea to pretend to be gay, hmh? It's Prosper, Prosper, Prosper!" Annia stated triumphantly.

"Are you accusing my boyfriend of having the hots for Scipio? Have you lost it completely now? Besides, we didn't hear Scipio objecting, did we now? In fact, wasn't he really begging Prosper to be his boyfriend?" Mona answered angrily.

"Are you saying Scipio is encouraging Prosper? That's preposterous!"

The angry girls looked at each other with flashing eyes.

"Come on, let's go." Annia demanded.

"Where to? In there? But we can't! What if they…_you know_?"

"And if they do _you know_? Maybe this was all an elaborated scheme to lull us into false security and they can openly have both worlds?"

"Annia, you're so jealous, you're paranoid. You don't know what you're saying. But okay, let's go. And I'll prove to you that whatever they do in there, isn't what you think they do in there."

Meanwhile in the bathroom two bored boys leant against the wall or sat on the narrow space between two basins. On Scipio's face any traces of make-up were long gone.

"This is getting boring. What takes them so long?"

"Don't know. Maybe we weren't convincing after all?"

Scipio shrugged.

"I think you were. Made even me wonder for a second."

"Thanks. I'm flattered, I think…?"

They chuckled. Bored Scipio picked up a book that looked strangely out of place being neatly placed between the tiled wall and a basin. Holding it up for Prop to inspect, he tilted his head questioning.

"One of Hornet's girl books." Prosper explained. "Bo must have brought it in here. If I let him, he would litter the entire Stella within hours."

"Ever read one?"

"No…, but I'm bored, too. Read loud, Scip."

"Okay, let's hear…" And Scipio opened the book at a random page and started reading to Prosper.

"OH MY…." Prosper exclaimed after listening to Scipio reading a page.

"Yeah." Scipio shut the book. "What trash! Good God, is _that_ what a girl dreams of? That's scary!"

"More than a NC-17 rated Halloween movie."

"Have you ever watched one of those?"

"Yes, at a parents-aren't-at-home-so-let's-have-a-party party, before…. Last year. And you?"

"No. Remember, I'm not exactly Mr. Popular in school or in the Junior Lion's Club, so I'm not in the in-circles. But I know that they're circulated. What was it like?"

"Bloody. Playing on your deepest fears. I don't know if I liked it or if it was just disgusting or if it really scared me to be honest."

"One should think that the fact alone, that there are guys out there, who WRITE this kind of stuff, is scary enough. But I'd really like to watch one someday just to see for myself. Maybe we can watch one together, Prop?"

Prosper nodded. "Yes, but with the girls." He smiled wickedly.

Scipio flashed him his roguish one.

"Sounds like a plan. Let's start easy with "The Fog". It's part of father's collection and thus accessible should the good fortunes smile down on me for once and father, Violetta and Teresa aren't at home one evening, so I can smuggle you in. And, if it gets too scary for the girls we can distract them a bit." He winked and Prosper winked back.

Outside of their bathroom the girls had a debate of their own in hushed voices.

"We can't go in there." Mona objected.

"You can't chicken out now. We have to know."

"Yes, but what if they _you know_."

"Mona, this is why we go in there." Annia felt like explaining something to a retarded child.

"No, not _you know_…_you know_."

"You mean pee?"'

"Yes."

"Oh…"

"See?"

"Well, we could close our eyes when we get in."

"Yes, that's good. That could we do…"

"Okay, let's do it."

"You go in first."

"Why? _You_ go in first."

"But this was your idea."

"I don't want to go in first. Let's go together."

"Okay, let's go….Why don't you?"

"Why don't _you_?"

"All right. We go together on three."

"On three."

"Start counting already."

"Okay…one."

"Two.."

"THREE."

The boys were startled when the door was opened with a bang and two girls with a hand in front of their eyes stormed into the room.

"Stop it! Whatever you do, stop it immediately!"

Speechless the boys watched how their girls slowly removed their hands and opened carefully one eye before they opened them wide. Annia and Mona blushed. Silence reigned over the place.

Scipio stood up from the washing stands and Prosper pushed himself away from the wall. They couldn't help it. They began to snicker.

"Mission most successfully accomplished, tiger." Scipio summed up nicely the situation.

"Oh, you think it's funny?"

"Aren't you mighty proud of yourselves?"

The boys nodded hesitating while their laughter died down. The girls looked at them with flashing eyes and additionally Annia pressed her hands against her sides – never a good sign Scipio knew from experience. They stepped up to Scipio and Prosper, who retreated slowly towards the wall in their back. Their girlfriends followed as slowly, effectively stalking them.

"Mona, love, come on, you know this is funny how you stormed in here, thinking Scip and I are doing _things_ with each other."

"Annia, honey, don't be angry….Be my sugar plum again, please?"

"You LAUGHED." Annia poked her finger into Scipio's chest.

"You laughed while we died the death of embarrassment feeling quite stupid." Mona emphasised.

"That wasn't nice."

"That wasn't nice at all."

By now the boys leant against the wall and they would have tried to sink into it, if it hadn't been rock- solid.

"This calls for punishment."

"Severe punishment." Annia clarified.

The boys swallowed hard and didn't dare look at each other.

"I'm only doing this for us, my sugar plum."

"And what's your excuse for fooling around with Scipio, my friend?"

"I don't need an excuse." Prosper stated boldly.

"And this is why?" Mona purred like a lioness but ready to pounce.

"Because I don't say a word when you hold hands with Scipio and sweet-talk to your mother."

"That's that?"

"That's that."

"Interesting theory…."

Suddenly the atmosphere changed dramatically. Mona put her hands beside Prosper's head and stepped close to him, feeling his breath on her face. His hands found a resting place on her hips as he pulled her even closer to sink into her kiss. Annia pulled Scipio's face toward hers and she smiled into their kiss, as Scipio took charge bending her head back, one hand gripped tightly her hair, the other one was on her rear. This was the Scipio she knew. Eventually the couples parted panting.

"Just a friendly reminder of who you do _things_ with." Annia announced before she turned around to leave the bathroom with Mona following her, their hips swaying alluringly.

Still slightly breathless the boys slid down to the cold floor.

"Wow!"

"Yeah, wow."

They stared ahead, knees discretely pulled up to their chest. Eventually they turned towards each other, grinning.

"You've simply got the best ideas."

"You're wearing lipstick again."

Scip's grin turned wider.

"Where?"

Prop touched his own lip to indicate the spot. But since it was a mirror action, Scipio got it all wrong.

"No, there."

Scip rubbed again his lips. "Gone now?"

"No, you just smeared it a bit to the left."

Force of habit made Prosper look for a clean tissue in his jeans pocket. Scipio watched him warily.

"If you spit on that tissue and come anywhere close to my face, I kick you!"

Prosper, who had indeed wanted to without thinking, blushed and laughed a bit forced.

"Yup, you love me." He deadpanned. "Here, clean yourself up. Gee, I don't know how you manage on your own."

"I don't have to. Annia wipes it off." He began to rub forcefully the paper tissue over his lips. A red smear appeared. "But maybe it's actually not a bad idea to kick you anyway." He casually picked up his conversation.

"What?"

"What do you know about self-defence or handling a knife? What happens, if you get caught by the Scarface? He's been quiet since the run-in with Riccio but he's got the bad habit to pop up like a Jack-in-the-box when you least expect him as we've seen. You need to be able to defend yourself and the others, if our oath shan't be meaningless words. I'm going to give you some lessons. I just don't know yet, when I can find the time."

Slowly Prosper nodded. Scipio was right. He needed to be able to defend the Family.

_To be continued this time for real with "From Roma with love"..._


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

_From Roma with love…_

The small crescent shaped spit covered by trees and thick undergrowth concealed the small basin that was connected to the _laguna_ only by a narrow passage, small enough to let a boat just the size of the _Angelina_ pass. And it also concealed a small strip of fine sand - the beach on the _isola segreta_. Towards the house the beach was hidden by a hedge. This place was truly secluded, but not deserted. The _Angelina_ bobbed softly in the swell and like a impatient horse she pulled from time to time at the rope that knotted her to an dead tree-trunk lying half way on the beach and half way in the water, when a large wave found its way into the basin. The couple lying on a blanket had no eye for the movements of their boat and the September sun sinking at the horizon in the most appealing colours was only a comfortable warm sensation on their skin, cooled by the soft sea breeze.

It was the weekend after Annia had travelled to Rome to visit her old friend Carolina and she and Scipio had stolen these precious few hours to truly reconnect with each other. Over two months they hadn't spend any time alone with each other and Scipio hadn't had the patience nor the will to wait any longer to take his girl-friend into his arms and show her how much he had missed her all these days and weeks. Yet he tried his damnest to keep his hunger for her in check.

But the girl in his arms might as well have been a log, from all the response he got from her. Almost mechanically she returned his caresses and kisses. Even in his by hormones ruled state of mind he noticed that Annia was only physically with him, but her mind was somewhere else far, far away from him and their present. Scipio frowned. Since Annia had returned from Rome she had been changed. More than once he had caught her staring at him from the side appraisingly. While following the inside of her arm with his fingertips, he searched his mind for reasons, why she was so distant and unresponsive. And when he had discarded any reasons, but one, he frowned even deeper. Annia didn't like the things they shared as a couple any longer. Just last week she had pleasantly sighed and whispered his name, when he had caressed her sensitive skin of the inside of her elbow with his tongue, when they had said one of their often very heated goodbyes and he had turned and tilted his head to reach the arm she had laid around his shoulder. But now his actions only earned him fingers brushing through his hair – a fleeting caress she often made without conscious thought.

What had happened to make her change so much? What had happened in Rome? Because only in Rome this change in her could have found its reason and cause. Should he have been alarmed immediately when she had told next to nothing about her stay in Rome? He knew her friend had taken her to a party, but he had got the impression that she hadn't liked it much. A party...with blokes. Had she met another guy and thus didn't tell much about it? Who was _he_? Searing pain and jealousy coursed through his body and made his insides churn. Had _he_ been allowed to touch her like only was he permitted to? Had _he_ kissed and caressed her? Had she had more fun with that bastard than with him? Was _he_ better and more experienced? Well, he would show her whom she belonged to – to him here in Venice. Not to some son of a bitch in Rome. High time to pull some weapons out of Selena's arsenal. He would make her shout his name in mindless pleasure. He would go further than ever before. With renewed determination he set to work.

Annia couldn't switch off the voice in her head. In an endless loop she heard again and again the words of her friend that had destroyed her happiness and eroded her trust in Scipio almost completely._„Men can't be faithful. They all want just one thing – and if they don't get it from you, they go elsewhere. You left him two months on his own after you whetted his appetite, you possibly can't be so naïve to think that he waited patiently for you…. If you want to keep a guy, you have to do what he wants from you. Doesn't matter if you don't like it or aren't ready for. Serve his urges and do it well and he sticks to you. Sex is the glue that keeps man and woman together. A new tenderness you say? Oh oh, that only means he satisfies his baser urges with another girl. It's like in former times. Wives are for duty towards the family and the perfect household and the ladies of the night for pleasure. Always was and always will be. Trust me, he's been around the block more than once during your absence."_

Annia bit back a sob. She loved Scipio with all her heart and the thought he might have been with another girl or still was, nearly killed her. Mentally she took a deep breath and pushed him away.

Confused Scipio let himself be pushed away from her. Had he done something wrong? But he had followed Selenas's lecture to the letter. Slowly, oh so slowly he had traced Annia's throat with his lips, carefully nibbled at the skin, sucked slightly on the throbbing pulse he had found, licked and bit tenderly her lobe, whispered throatily her name into her ear, while his hand had moulded itself around soft flesh and played with hem of her shirt and his fingers had grazed the hot skin below. But the more he had done, the more Annia had tensed up. Not one little pleased sigh, he was used to hear so inhibited from her had rewarded his efforts

Resolutely Annia sat up and pulled off her t-shirt, taking her sports-bra along with trembling fingers. Staring up into the sky she laid down again, hands balled to fists at her side. She couldn't look at Scipio. She was too afraid of what she might read in his face – disappointment that she perhaps wasn't as beautiful as he had imagined her to be or quite the opposite – lust, not love in his eyes.

Scipio had to swallow hard, but his mouth was suddenly dried up. Wide eyed he stared at the naked chest of his girlfriend that was adorned by the family necklace of Saint Nicolas. He couldn't think anymore, only feel how his blood rushed South. Feeling hot he hastily removed his t-shirt and let out a quiet moan before he reached out with badly trembling fingers to touch. It was amazing. Selena really did know about stuff. His ministrations had worked like a charm. Forgotten was the impression of seconds ago that Annia didn't like his caresses.

Annia felt his fingers trace her skin, circling her belly button and her sides and then slowly make their way up. She began to tremble. After a while Scipio couldn't ignore any longer that his girl-friend was still like a log, fists stilled balled at her side and staring resolutely up into the evening sky. She definitely didn't enjoy it. Scipio sat up and looked down onto her.

„What's wrong, Annia?"

„Nothing!" Alarmed and with a hint of desperation she pulled him down onto her again and kissed him hard, hoping to distract him.

But panting Scipio freed himself.

"It's not nothing. It's something. You don't have much fun, do you? Scip pushed his pride aside . _"Communication is the key. Even if it hurts or is embarrassing. The damage of not talking with each other can be much greater than any discomfort you might experience at this moment."_ He heard Selena's advice in his head.

"You're lying there like a log, Annia. Usually you're much more responsive to me and enjoy what we do, but tonight…no, since you've come back from Rome you're somehow….distant. Even when we're with the others, it's like you're not really with us, with ME. Is there…. another bloke? Someone you met in Rome?" What if she said yes? Icy fingers held his heart that was pounding afraid and flustered like a butterfly.

"What do you want me to say, hmh? I spent almost two months locked away in a cloister thinking you'd run away and hid at Grandma's and Renzo's. And then I come back and everything's changed. I learn that you spent three paradise-like weeks in Switzerland. I learn of your dance and cooking classes. I learn of parties and matinees. And everywhere you went were girls, lots of them. And you accuse me of cheating on you!"

"But that wasn't my idea! And I don't accuse you of anything. But you haven't answered my question yet. Is … there… someone… else?" The words tasted bitter on his tongue.

"What? No, Scipio, no! There is no one else but you! You have to believe me." Annia panicked, the quick flash of anger gone.

"Then why….? Do I do it wrong? Too fast, too slow? Too tender or too rough? Tell me or show me, how you like it. I just want to make you feel good, Annia. That we BOTH feel good, when we're together like this."

Annia balled herself up to make herself as small as possible. She was ashamed and felt confused.

"It's just….I don't want to loose you, Scipio. And if, if you want…more from me, then I'll do what you want me to do." She said quietly, looking down on her toenails, because she couldn't look her boyfriend in the eyes right now.

Scipio said nothing for a while. And so the silence stretched towards the horizon. He didn't know what to say. One part of him rejoiced at her announcement that she was his for any pleasure and his overenthusiastic mind provided him with some very vivid and steamy fantasies of the two of them together. But the other part of him, that was still capable of rational thought wondered what had brought this on. What had happened to make her think she _had_ to do what she did? Why did she think she was going to loose him?

"You're not going to loose me, Annia. And I don't understand why you think that you might. Did I somehow give you reason to doubt me? Yes, I've met lots of girls these past weeks, but you're _the _girl, _my _girl."

Even if she heard the sincerity and the possessiveness in his voice, which would have sent her heart soaring under normal cirumstances, Annia was ill at ease. It was so unbearable hard to talk to him, so embarrassing. Never before in her life she had felt that exposed. To make him understand she would have to speak of things that would hurt him – maybe - and also would cast a bad light on herself. Why had she started this at all? She deeply regretted it now. Why couldn't she let things be as they were and pretend she enjoyed herself?

She began to let sand slip between her fingers and make a small pile next to her knees folded against her chest before she destroyed it to start anew piling up the sand.

"You've changed, Scipio. You're not the same boy I left in July. Before….before…I liked it the way it was between us, but you were often a bit… rough. You overwhelmed me." She took a deep breath and dared to glance at him. He was looking down and had started to work on a pile of sand of his own. Would he think she accused him in any way? But she didn't. Not really.

"Then I come back with the expectation of being shoved against the nearest wall and be kissed senseless before I could even say a single word to greet you. But you just caressed my face and kissed me tenderly before you took me into your arms. I totally lost any sense of time, Scipio. We just stood there and it felt sooo good. Like in the movies, you know, with violins and angels' singing in the background. And I didn't really think about this change in you. I was just happy. But….when I was in Rome…..Scipio, this is so hard to talk about…. I'm really feeling uncomfortable here."

"But we have to get passed this to go forward, whatever _this_ is. I don't have a ball right now either." He tried to be supportive, but it was hard keep the defence and hurt out of his voice and to listen to and understand what she tried to say.

"Carolina, you know my best friend from Rome, she said you were probably cheating on me. Now that you know how it feels to be with a girl, you can't help but craving more, she says, and since I wasn't there but millions of other girls..."

"WHAT? How can she say such things? She doesn't even know me. Or would Prop just cheat on Mona, if she hadn't been here?"

"Certainly not!" Annia answered with conviction.

"I see. You don't think that our noble Prosper would cheat on Mona, but you wouldn't put it past me, your own boyfriend?! Thanks a lot for the vote of confidence, honey." Scipio scathed.

"It's not like that, Scip." Angrily Mona reached for her t-shirt and pulled it on again. "I'm not in a relationship with them. I can see them more clearly. With you, it's different. I'm on cloud nine with you and I don't know if the things I see in you are real or are they just the result of my hazy imagination, because I want to see them in you. Do you understand?….Where are you going?"

Bewildered she watched how Scipio rose and walked over to the boat. Was he that angry with her that he would leave her stranded here? Just like this? Relieved she saw him coming back to her with a small book in his hands.

"Here. Read this." He held it out for her to take and sat down on the blanket again.

"What's this?" Cautiously she took the notebook and began to leave through it. Curious she recognised Scipio's handwriting.

"It's a sort of…diary… My real even if belated birthday present for you. I just wanted to wait for a quiet moment alone with you to give it to you. It was Mona's idea actually. After you left, I was pretty down and so she said, I should write down my feelings – maybe write some letters to you I could give you when you're back. But it somehow turned into a diary of what I did and not only how I felt during your absence. To feel closer to you…." Scipio flushed. "I know it's totally sappy and you probably think I'm nuts…."

"It's even pink…one of my favourite colours." She caressed reverently the pink hard cover sprinkled with red hearts. "It's beautiful, Scipio, and I love it already. Thank you." She bent forward and pecked him softly and kissed him again, when he responded.

"You said I've become more considerate and tender. And you wonder why. Go to August, 25. Read and you will have the answer."

Curious she opened the book again and leafed through it until she found the date. And with eyes getting wider with every line she read about his encounter with Selena and his subsequent theoretical education in love-making.

After a while she closed the book again and stared out to the boat with unseeing eyes. She felt conflicted. Once again red hot jealousy coursed through her veins. That woman had touched her boyfriend, tried to seduce him, to take what was hers alone. And now that he had seen another woman in flesh, would he find her wanting? Was this Selena more beautiful than she? She had to be, after all she was a high class lady of the night. And would he want to try all that he had been told and taught with her as soon as possible? She clenched up in panic.

"Annia?" She felt a careful caress of his fingers on her arm.

"I'm afraid." She told him with a small voice.

"Of what?" He asked quietly. He tipped up her chin and made her look at him.

"You. Me…Us."

"You know I wouldn't want to hurt you ever."

"I know, but….I still can't help feeling pressured I guess."

"Pressured?"

"God." She rose, walked a few steps to and fro. "She's a woman, I'm not. She's put all that stuff into your head I don't know much of, and what I know seems to be all wrong considering the mess I created by listening to Carolina. Will you…do you want to sleep with me, Scipio?" She gathered all her courage to look straight at him.

"What?" He felt exposed. If he told her yes, she would bolt, if he told her no, she would be offended. He pushed a hand through his hair.

"Let me put it like this. Yes, I've got some pretty steamy lectures and fantasies in my head. And I want to make them come true with you – one day, when we're both ready and want it. Because I can't imagine any other girl I want to try all this with but you, and there are things I'm not ready for either I think. I'd like to take one step at a time with you and see where it leads us. And you decide at what pace we explore." Mentally he crossed his fingers. Please, please, let Selena be right about this control and communication stuff. And he hoped he hadn't messed things up even more.

She looked down at him. In his face she could read apprehension and hope. Could that be true? Would he hand over the reigns of their physical relationship to her? But that would also mean he handed over the responsibility. She didn't want that.

"I'd like to explore with you, too. But I don't want to be solely responsible for us and for our physical relationship." She knelt down in front of him. "Scipio, it's either together or not at all. Maybe I like you to push me a bit from time to time. Or you tell me when I overstep your boundaries."

"Together sounds beautiful."

Scipio smiled broadly and let himself fall back onto the blanket and pulled her down with him. Annia giggled and settled comfortably on him.

"Wait, honey."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, but I'm lying on the diary." He clenched his stomach muscles and managed to lift them both a few inches in order to grab the book under him and push it aside for the moment. They looked into each others eyes and let the tension mount between them until it snapped and they began to devour each other hungrily. Scipio let his hands roam over her back and further down, while Annia's hands were clamped into his hair. After a while Annia set up panting and removed once more her t-shirt. She wanted to try and be touched again. Now that everything was in the open, maybe she could enjoy it this time.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Touch me."

And touching Scipio did and in between caresses and kisses, that had Annia loll her head back and moaning breathlessly, he turned them around and laid her gently onto their blanket. Guided by instinct and Selena's lectures, he basked in the feeling of hot and unbelievably soft female flesh and savoured her breathy moans. And when she finally whispered God's and his name in one breath, while she was stretching out her arms to clamp one hand into the sands beside the blanket and one into his hair or his back, he knew he did things right. And she returned his ministrations the right way as well. Dazed he longed for more and moved his hand lower to the button of her jeans, but her hand guided his up again. He smiled and whispered _"okay"_ to her, while he was looking deeply into her eyes. After a while the intense caresses dwindled down to tender touches and eventually they only pecked each other occasionally. Scipio rolled onto his back and took her with him once more. Annia settled comfortably down in his arms and listened to his steady heartbeat, while she drew abstract figures and letters on his skin.

And she began to talk finally of her stay in the cloister and how much she had hated it there, her visit in Rome, the party that they had attended as the youngest guests as she had quickly learnt and her worries about her friend Carolina, who hadn't stopped roaming the streets at night after Annia had moved away and had apparently mixed up with the wrong crowd. She talked of illegal car races, alcohol, drugs and sex. And she held Scipio tighter, when she thought how easily she could have associated with those young people as well, if she had stayed in Rome. Scipio in turn talked about his father's attempts to straighten him out and that he experienced a complete new feeling towards him - thankfulness. He was actually thankful to him for having sent Selena to him.

When the stars twinkled above them, they stood up, dressed again, shook out the blanket, hid it in its plastic bag under the dead and hollow tree-trunk, picked up the diary and the water bottles and cookie box and entered the boat. Looking carefully through her mother's opera glasses Scipio checked if they were alone in the waters around the _isola segreta_ and drove slowly back to Venice, savouring the last minutes they had together.

_To be continued in… My boyfriend, his lover, my mother and I_


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

Annia and her mother Annalena stepped out of the vicarage into the early October sun, which felt hot to their cool skin. Pulling on her sunglasses, she managed to push surreptitiously a button and a short time later Scipio's mobile phone chimed to announce that he got a new text message.

"They're on their way."

Prosper nodded. "Let's go."

Scipio picked up his large backpack and together they stepped into the line of Venetians and mostly tourists to mount the next _traghetto_ that would bring them to the stop Annia and her mother would be waiting. Immediately they made their way up to the upper deck and managed to secure two seats next to each other while ignoring the angry looks of an elder tourist couple who would have loved express their annoyance about the ill-mannerisms of the Venetian youth, but were restricted to angry glances due to the language barrier.

The _traghetto_ cast off and made its way slowly up the _canal grande_. The boys didn't speak. Everything had been discussed and talked about days ago. The rough script had been written and rehearsed. They would play it mostly by ear they had decided. Minutes later the _traghetto _berthed and a steady stream of passengers poured onto the stop's platform which rose and sank with the tides and was filled up again by a fresh stream of passengers. Among them Annia and her mother.

Determined Annalena went upstairs. She couldn't stand the crowd on the lower deck and the fresh air on the upper deck would make the ride more bearable. Even in Rome she had never been able to stand rides in the metro squeezed in the crowd. Annia followed dutifully and with a smile on her face. It was nice to know she knew her mother well enough to predict her actions and habits.

When Annia saw the twins she blinked. As agreed the boys didn't take notice of their surroundings. They were turned towards each other, smiling a lot and talking in hushed voices. Both had one leg folded under the other and their knees were touching. A sudden and unexpected yet welcomed lurch of the ferry let Annia stumble and she fell against Scipio, who looked up and acted surprised, when he felt her sudden weight on his shoulder, as she leaned on him and heard her hastily murmured apology.

"Annia! What are you doing here?" Acting surprised Scipio ripped off his sunglasses and stood up to kiss her cheeks. Just in time he remember to only touch her arm instead of embracing her waist as he usually did when he greeted her.

Annalena looked around when she had turned and didn't find her daughter directly behind her but speaking with a boy who looked familiar to her. She walked back to them.

"Oh, I'm out and about with my mother. Mama? Look, who's here. You remember Scipio, _dottor _Massimo's son?"

"I certainly do, Annia. It's nice to meet you again, Scipio. How are you?" she asked politely and a tiny bit concerned. She hadn't known that her daughter had kept in touch with the boy.

Meanwhile Prosper had stood up also and greeted Annamaria with little kisses left and right on her cheeks.

"Oh, mama, you don't know Martin yet, Scipio's partner." Surprised Annalena shook his outstretched hand slowly. Partner? Surely, his friend. The boat lurched again.

"Here, have a seat." Scipio offered politely. The ladies gracefully took up the boys' offer, while the twins were leaning against the railing that is Prosper was leaning against it and Scipio, who playacted the "girl" to be even less of a threat to Annia's morale and innocent well-being in a mother's eyes, leaned with his back against Prosper's chest. Automatically Prop's arms went around Scipio to hold his "partner" more securely. Casually Scipio laid his hands over Prospers, mostly to keep himself from reaching out to Annia.

"So, where are you going to?"

"The Lido. We want to make the most out of one of the last really warm days this Autumn. Do some sun bathing, have a little swim, you know." Prosper spoke up. Scipio was content to nod.

"I met your father the other day at home, when Father gave his little family party. He told me you were still spending your time in a cloister." Scipio had known he would be nervous, but he hadn't expected it to be so difficult to keep the special warmth and smile out of his voice and the loving look out of his eyes, when he addressed his girl-friend. That she wore her hair braided again and was modestly dressed made things a bit easier for him though. She looked yet didn't look like his Annia. And she acted yet didn't act like his girl-friend. Currently she had folded her hands in her lap. Only now that she couldn't touch him she realised how often they really did. She was afraid, if she looked at him over an extended period of time her love for him would shine through.

"Yes, mama and I go every summer holidays. And what did you? Were you in South France with your uncle's? Roughing it with the tough men?"

"No, my uncle was called away last minute on business, so Father sent me to Switzerland. Three weeks in an international youth camp."

"Did you go with him, Martin?"

Prosper shook his head. "No, we went back to Germany to visit family and old friends."

"That must have been tough on you both." Annia spoke with great sympathy.

"Were the longest summer holidays of my life." Scipio put his longing he had felt for Annia during their time apart into his words.

"Hey, now we're back together again, hmh?" Prosper whispered and pressed his nose into Scipio's hair affectionately. Scipio tightened his hold and his thumbs began to caress his twin bother's hands. Annia had to bite the insides of her cheeks. They were soo cute together. Her mother simply had to believe that Scipio wasn't in the least interested in her as a girl. Annalena was disconcerted and felt uncomfortable to have to watch this casual display of tender affection between two boys.

"So, what else did you do? I think dad mentioned that you were taking a sewing class?"

Scipio and Prop laughed.

"No, fortunately there aren't any real bachelor's survival classes. No, I had cooking class."

"Hey, that sounds like fun."

"No, not really. While I'm great at making salad sauces, I'm absolutely useless with a stove or an oven. I don't even like it to be honest."

"That's not true. You can cook quite okay." Prosper objected. Scipio managed to turn his burst of ironic laughter into flattered giggling. After some prodding of his family he had succumbed and had cooked a meal for them – for the first and the last time. Prosper grinned, as he remembered the incident. Even the always-hungry Riccio had been remarkably quickly sated after the first bites. But both boys sobered up, when they saw the deep frown on Annalena's face. Weren't they convincing enough? What else had they to do to make her believe? Kiss each other?

"By the way, Scipio, for my birthday my eldest sister Annasophia and her husband gave me their old laptop. It still runs on 98. But my father uses XP. I tried to uninstall the old operating system and install the new one. But something seems to have gone wrong and now it's not working properly anymore. Dad's very busy, so could you do me the favour and take a look at it? You're pretty good with computers. Or maybe you, Martin?"

Annia smiled satisfied. To mention the laptop was a legit excuse for Scipio to enter her home as an invited guest and to ask Prosper a.k.a. Martin was also a stroke of genius. It meant she wasn't attached to Scipio more than what was appropriate for a nun-to-be.

"Ahm, sure. I'll give you a call and come by one of these days, okay?" Scipio consented casually.

"Anmi, I'm sure, your father will find the time to help you. There's no need to bother Scipio…or Martin, wasn't it?" Annalena tried to bligh their efforts. Annia was surprised. Hadn't her mother told her to bring the laptop to the shop to have it checked and fixed and not to bother her hard-working father with the matter?

"No, it's not a bother, _signora_ Venturi. I'll be happy to help."

"Well, I don't know….if you're absolutely sure…"

There was a suddenly a tense moment. Annia felt her mother didn't want Scipio coming to her house. But why? The moment of silence was disturbed by a mobile phone's chime. Surprised Scipio pulled his out of his pocket and read the new text message. It was Hornet's request to buy on their way home some milk. He frowned. He was in the middle of something vital here and Hornet asked him to do something totally trivial. Prosper had read the message over his twin brother's shoulder and frowned, too. A plan developed in fractions of a second. Maybe this was the way to convince Annia's mother that Scipio was in a committed gay relationship.

"What the hell?" He hissed. Annalena winced at the curse. "Where did he get your number from? I thought you had made it plain clear to Marco that he can stick his invitation to his apartment where the sun doesn't shine." He stared at Scipio from the side that he picked up his clue and play along.

"Martin, I swear. He didn't get it from me. And I did tell him that I don't want to come by and have a look at the fantastic view over the _laguna_." A submissive Scipio tried to placate his furious and jealous boyfriend. "Perhaps Riccio gave it to him? You know I'm not interested in him. Please, Martin. I didn't do anything…."

"Well, maybe you didn't start this, but I'll for sure end it." Prosper whipped out his own mobile phone and hastily wrote a message to Hornet saying they would bring some milk and also buy some bread. Scipio watched the letters appear and bit back a large smile. He threaded his fingers through Prosper's that weren't busy writing the message and looked adoringly at him from the side.

"So, there. That'll teach the wanna-be Romeo to leave you be."

Annia died of curiosity. She knew it could have only been one of the family. And that it was bad timing, but nothing serious. She could read her boyfriend well enough to know that he was bursting from suppressed laughter. The ferry's engines got louder, when they neared another stop. Scipio and Prosper straightened up.

"We have to change here. Annia, I'll give you a ring. _Signora_ Venturi, it's been nice meeting you again."

The boys kissed the girl hastily and with a wave goodbye and holding hands they stepped into the line of passengers to get off the _traghetto_. Annalena watched with narrowed eyes their departure. Annia felt like breaking the silence the boys had left.

The engines revved again when the _traghetto_ left the stop.

"What did you say?" Annalena asked.

"I said, I'm glad that Scipio will come to take a look at my laptop. He's such a sweetheart, when you get to know him better."

Annia smiled, convinced that her mother would see no harm in him and her being friends. And her heart was jumping joyfully, when she thought about all the new prospects they had now. And so she missed the hard-lined mouth of her mother or the deep frown on her face.

Annalena was appalled. Not only that the son of one of the most respected men of the entire Veneto was homosexual – one of these freaks who defied God's design and intentions - he hadn't had even the most basic decency to keep his abnormality a secret. No, he proudly flaunted it for all the world to see. And the worst part was that he had no qualms to drag her innocent little baby into his sordid world. Annalena realised it was once again up to her alone to protect her from harmful worldly influences. Her maternal instinct had warned her all right – Scipio Massimo was dangerous.

"Yes he's very kind. And I forbid you to ever see him again."

_To be continued…_


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

_comment: slight warning of sexual content at the end. Our heros are growing up after all..._

The weeks following the fiasco on the ferry seemed to be a sequence of events that lead those involved downhill. Annia had told first Scipio, then the entire group of her mother's adverse reaction to the twin brother's performance. Scipio had been scared, that Annia might heed her mother's ban and break up with him, but had calmed down when she defiantly reassured him that nothing would change between the two of them. What he didn't know was that she had downplayed the row with her mother. Annia had been livid! She couldn't understand the narrow-mindedness of her mother and most of all she had been mad at herself and the situation she found herself trapped in. Torn between her need to defend Scipio, her anger at her mother, that she had to defend him at all and couldn't in the way she would have preferred to lest her mother detect any deeper feelings, her anger towards Scipio for having come up with this half-cooked plan in the first place and finally the anger that she was angry and couldn't really vent it. She had been damned to silence.

The summer had said goodbye for good and late Autumn had the _laguna_ in a tight and rainy grip. After long weeks of beautiful blue sky and almost uninterrupted shining of the sun the dark and heavy clouds laid a wet blanket over the city and caused a slight depression among its inhabitants. Altogether too many nights their peaceful sleep got interrupted by the alarm that warned the city of _aqua alta_. Too many nights the children were woken up by the alarm and spent the night staring at the bags of sands they had stolen from construction sites and heaped against the main and side entrances from the inside to keep the flood out of their home, being afraid that they might see the first rivulets of water flow under the old doors and leaking through the sand bags and would eventually flood the entire movie theatre. Those were the days, when they couldn't leave the Stella at all, when the water stood high in the calles and slowed down the pulse of the city and its confused yet oddly fascinated tourists.

The only highlight in these bleak weeks was Bo's seventh birthday. But it also marked another step into the depression and sometimes uncharacteristically volatile behaviour of his older brother. And with each passing day even the carefree and happy Bo became more and more withdrawn. It was as if a huge weight weighed the brothers down.

And one day in November, when the family woke up, that is Hornet woke up and Mosca and Riccio returned from the market, they found the brothers gone. Not even a note explained where they had gone to or when they would return. Even Prosper's mobile phone had been left behind – a sure sign that the brothers didn't want to be disturbed no matter what.

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The brothers walked slowly along the rows of graves on the cemetery island of Venice. Compared to the always buzzing city it was quiet and peaceful. Next to a large arbor vitae they sat down onto the blanket Prosper had spread for them. They didn't speak.

And then Bo climbed onto Prop's lap and snuggled into his brothers firm but tender embrace. For a long time they listened to the wind caressing softly the leaves that hang yellow and brown at the trees. Another big storm and most of them would fall off, quietly so. Old people, mostly women dressed in black, passed them with flowers or new sanctuary lamps. Sometimes they met other people who had come to visit family or friends and consoling words, smiles or even gossip were exchanged. Some of them threw curious glances in the boys' direction, speculating on their motive for coming here to a place that was usually avoided by youth. But Bo and Prosper didn't pay attention to them.

After a while Prop pulled his backpack closer and pulled out a small wallet. It contained two photos and an old five-Deutsch Mark-coin from his dad. More he hadn't brought from Hamburg. He deeply regretted that he had to leave all the photograph albums behind, when they had fled, but he had thought it was more important to take warm clothes and something to eat and drink and Mr. Bear than photos. Back then he had thought he would never ever forgot a single one as often as he had stared at them, trying to remember, when they had been taken and thinking of the time, when their mother had been still healthy and he hadn't been separated from this brother by Aunt Esther. Over and over he had looked at them to burn them into his memory for all time.

He blinked away his tears and with a rough voice he addressed his little brother.

"Do you know, what date is today, Bo?"

The small boy fiddled with his fingers and shook his head. But just by looking at him one could easily read him. He knew, but tried to hide from this knowledge.

"One year, Bo. Mom died today a year ago." Prop said with trembling voice the unspeakable.

Bo nodded and started sniffling.

"Look, what I've got here. Can you still remember the day it was taken?"

Carefully Bo grabbed the photo and looked at it. There he was and Prop and their mom. When they hadn't known yet that their mother's body was being mercilessly destroyed by an enemy that had already won the fight. They all laughed and at the background one could see a bit hazy the large face of Minnie Mouse. He reached out to touch the woman's face. Sometimes it was so hard to remember how she had looked like or sometimes he couldn't remember her voice anymore or how she had smelled.

"Was my fifth birthday. That's Disney Land in Paris. Mom let me eat as much ice-cream as I wanted. And then it rained and we got all wet."

Prop nodded.

"And we rode the Ferris wheel and mom waited at the exit, because she was afraid of heights."

"And I got Mr. Bear, Prop."

"And later in the hotel mom tucked us in despite of my arguing that I was way to old to be tucked in and…" Prop's voice broke. He blinked back his tears, while Bo was starting to wail quietly. The boy shook in Prop's embrace. Prop would love nothing more than to let himself grieve, but falling apart in front of his little brother's eyes wouldn't do any good, he felt. Bo relied on him to be always the strong and unshakable, the one to make things better. Or was it better to let him see, that he grieved, too, and that it was okay to cry? He didn't knew.

"Do you still miss her?" he asked Prop.

"Every day, Bo."

"Me, too."

"And Dad, too. They're with us now. Always. In us. Like in your smile or in my eyes. Mom used to say you were all her and I were all Dad looks-wise. And in our memories. Like the one of your fifth birthday. And do you still remember, when she made spaghetti and somehow forgot the tomato sauce on the stove?"

Bo giggled.

"The pot exploded and everywhere was tomato sauce at the wall and the ceiling."

"And when we…" Carefully the boys pulled out their happy memories of their mom and for a while the grief wasn't so hard to bear. Many, many sentences started with "do you recall…". After a while he showed Bo the other photo. A tall man held the hand of a much younger Prop and of his mom. She carried a baby. His father looked proudly at them and Prop looked up to his father, while his mother was smiling down on the infant in her arms.

"Can you remember, who this is?" Prop asked Bo.

"That's dad." And Prop's heart broke again on the indifferent tone in Bo's voice. But he couldn't be angry at him. How could he? Bo had been barely a year old, when his father had been shot. He had no memory whatsoever of this man. Prop on the other side had always idolised his father. Even if the memories had become slightly pale by now as if the colours had been washed away by looking at them too often he remembered him vividly. His dad had been a pilot for Lufthansa and every time his mom and he had gone to the airport to pick him up after one of his long distance flights his breath had been stuck in his throat, when he looked at his dad in his dark blue uniform with the gold stripes on the sleeves. Prop knew he had only been six feet, but back then he thought his father was 60 feet tall and had shoulders as broad as a giant. And as usual he had been most awed by how his dad could make people do what he wanted from them with just a look or a smile. His mom had called this "his aura of power". And then he had run towards him and jumped into his arms and the tall man had smiled and hugged him tightly, asking him if he had been good and if he had taken care of his mom. And when they were at home he often had gone with this father to a football match shouting along with him and rooting for their team. And when they had flown into holidays there always had been a nice smelling, friendly looking lady in dark blue who had given him extra sweets and after a while she had taken him by the hand and led him to the cockpit, where his father had waited for him. And he had sat in his lap and had the hands on the pilot stick and had been flying the air-plane all by himself. It had taken a long time for him to realise that he had never flown the air-plane but that all correcting manoeuvres and curves in the air had been commanded by the auto-pilot, but still it had been a rush for him. And then he had told everyone in the air-plane who had wanted to hear it or hadn't wanted, that the pilot up front was HIS DAD and that he was the best and bravest pilot of the entire world. Prop and his mother had told Bo many stories so that he could feel a connection to the brunette man on the photos, but still these were only stories of a man for Bo. What a father really was, he had never known. Prop had always been his big brother, and maybe this was a sort of surrogate father figure for the little fellow. Prop was everything that was good and right in Bo's life.

After a while the boys fell quiet. Both were exhausted from telling stories and crying and remembering so hard that they both got a headache. Bo was still cradled in Prop's arms.

"Prop?"

"Hmh?"

"Promise, we will always be together."

Prop was silent for a short moment. He knew he couldn't promise that, but he knew also that for a small child always meant the next week, the next month or even the next year. Everything beyond that time span was too hard to imagine.

"I promise, Bo."

The small boy sighed.

"I'm happy."

Prop looked searchingly at him and Bo knew he had to explain.

"We're together and we're here. And aunt Esther will never ever find us."

"No, she won't."

"I like Venice."

"So do I. Besides, you're supposed to like Venice. After all you're a little Venetian."

"Really?"

"Yes. You know mom loved Venice and dad loved mom. So we spent many times here. And once they had gone all alone and left me with gran and gramps. And when they had returned you were in her belly. So you're really a little Venetian."

He fell silent, remembering the weeks he had spent in the small village, where his grandparents had lived. Everyday had been an adventure, and even just going down the street to the bakery with gramps had been full of excitement. They had watched breathlessly how a spider had spun its silk around the little helpless fly trapped in its net. Or the neighbourhood cat lying in the morning sun and only his ears had twitched and turned like a radar with the noises. And sometimes they had gone to visit Little Uncle, an old dapple grey horse, who had loved carrots and lived on the farm across. And there he had seen tiny yellow fluff balls that beeped for their mother hen and how impressed he had been, when he had been allowed to hold oh so carefully one of the fledglings. How warm it had been and how fast his little frightened heart had pounded. But he, Prop, had caressed it carefully and told him whispering he wouldn't harm it. And he had gone camping with this grandfather in the nearby forest and they had made a small campfire and put sausages on sticks and had been "roughing" it. Gran had given her roughnecks, as she called them when they had come home once again covered from head to toe in mud and dirt but smiling, a huge piece of her butter cake.

Yes, Prop was of the opinion that he had had a very happy childhood. Like in the children books her mother used to illustrate. And then he asked himself for the millionth time how he could fill Bo's heart with happy childhood memories, when there was already so much death and grief in it. He pressed his little brother closer to himself and stiffened. Bo's life wasn't burdened by grief. It was his own! Bo had never known his grandparents or his father. He didn't, couldn't miss or grief for what he didn't know! He, Prosper, had known them for an altogether much too short time and he missed them all. It was him, who had been robbed, not Bo. It was him, who had lost everything but Bo.

"Prop? You're hurting me."

Prop hadn't realised that his grip had become too tight for the small boy. Ashamed and alarmed he released him immediately.

"I'm sorry, Bo. I just got lost for a moment in my thoughts…"

"Are you brooding again?"

Prop nodded.

"But you shouldn't. We're here, we're together. Everything's alright."

"Yes, Bo. We're here and we're together. Everything's alright."

How could he ensure indeed, that Bo got at least a resemblance of that happy childhood? He had promised his mother. Like he had always promised his father, when he had left to take over the responsibility for the lives of 340 people on the flights to New York and back and to make sure that they had had a safe journey. He would take care of his mother and baby brother. He was the man of the house in his father's absence. The responsibility for his brother once again weighed a ton. And there was none who could really understand it. Not Scipio, the emotional orphan, Annia, who suffocated in the cocoon of love her mother spun, Riccio and Hornet, who couldn't even grasp the mere concept of having parents or Mosca, who knew but wasn't burdened by responsibility for a younger sibling. Not even Mona, who had never known her father. He had left her mother before Mona had been born. No, he was alone in this. Alone….. all alone….

It had gone dark, when the brothers had come home to the Stella. Prop had almost expected to be drilled with questions, but curiously the family held their tongue and acted unusually shy towards the brothers. Maybe they saw their red rimmed eyes or the tiredness in their movements. When both had washed up for the night and were already in bed, Hornet had brought them wordlessly hot milk with honey. And soon the Germans were fast asleep and only in their dreams they heard the other children talking quietly about them.

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A few days later the worried Mona brought the withdrawn Prosper to the Beach. Since he and Bo had spent the day away from the rest of the family, Prosper hadn't said more than a dozen words and had fulfilled his duties like a zombie. Eventually she had talked to Scipio and they both had agreed that it might be best, if Mona took Prop away from it all for a few hours. Perhaps he would open up to her, if he didn't to the family or to Scipio.

They were huddled together in their double sleeping bag, not talking. Prosper seemed to be fully focused on the wind that blew coldly over the beach and let the tiniest silicone grains rasp over their facial skins and hands. Even if Prosper didn't talk, the fact alone that he was here with her she saw as a good sign of him as slowly recovering from whatever it was. Certainly, she and also Scipio suspected that it might have something to do with his mother, but since both Prosper and Bo refused to talk, it remained a hypothesis.

When she felt him shaking in her arms, she thought at first that her boyfriend chuckled quietly. But then the trembling got worse until he was truly shaking silently. And she didn't have to turn his face towards her to confirm what she already knew - Prosper wasn't laughing but sobbing and crying silently. Mona got scared. Her unshakeable, so balanced Prosper, who always knew what to do next and how to solve the small and large problems of his family had broken down in her arms. Helpless she caressed his hair. Like a gush the words streamed out of his mouth, first as a small Italian rivulet that got wilder and more rapid until it was a real flood of German sentences. But for a word here and there she couldn't understand what he was saying. Then she realised it wasn't important that she understood what he was saying, but that he was saying the words at all. That he freed his soul from them.

Prop clung at her during his break down. Eventually his sobs, wails and screams of rage got quieter, the shaking lessened. Much later he laid emotionally spent and silently in her arms. And yet after quite some time, she felt him returning her slight squeeze of his hand. She looked down and right into his eyes. His voice was hoarse, when he addressed her with a shy "hi".

"Hi." She whispered back.

"I'm sorry for earlier." He was a bit ashamed and took her offered tissue to blow his nose. Mona laid a finger on his lips to hush him and wiped the last traces of tears away.

"Sshhh, it's okay. You needed it. And I'm just glad I could be with you when you needed me."

"Always."

He propped himself up on his elbow and kissed her tenderly and then with increasing fervour, which Mona returned. He needed to celebrate life. When it got too hot in their sleeping bag for two, sweatshirts were discarded and Prop rolled between her opened legs. Unconsciously his hips began with thrusting motions to rub himself against her, while he peppered her face and upper body with kisses. Mona rolled them over and fell off him to snuggle against him. She looked deeply into his eyes, as she opened with still unpractised fingers his fly to let her hand glide against hot hard flesh. Wide-eyed Prop returned her gaze until his eyes slipped close and he sank back with a deep groan.

"Oh, _Gott_." He whispered brokenly.

"Like this?" As answer he gripped her hand and corrected her until he felt she had picked up the right moves, rhythm and the pressure from him. All too soon he shuddered and jets of hot fluid shot out and dripped off her hand.

"What a mess! It's everywhere. Do you have another hankie?"

Mona shook her head.

"Shit!"

She began to giggle.

"What?" Prop smiled. He loved her laugh.

"I don't know. I just think it's funny."

"It's not. It's sticky and cold and doesn't smell too good. And I have no means to clean it up, which means I will have to walk home with sticky underwear and perhaps pull out a few hairs later."

Mona's giggling turned into a full belly laugh.

"Oh, the hardships of being a boy. I'm so sorry for you…."

"Well, you should. That bastard has no pride, no self-control and he has the annoying habit of raising his head at the most inappropriate moments. Not to mention the many mornings I can't get up until he gets down one way or the other."

He grinned widely, not in the least ashamed. He didn't see much sense in it, as he had just come apart quite nicely in her arms. In fact each time he felt closer to her.

"Stop bitching, Prop. At least you don't have to live in fear each month that the tampon won't hold in everything and you stand there with blood stains on your pants all of a sudden. Not to mention the cramps that can cut you like a knife or the almost overwhelming desire to clean behind the fridge or the attic. And you don't feel aggression and depression and aren't irritated by the constant slight pain you're in. Your breasts don't hurt when touched or your tips don't get hard and everyone can see it, when you wear thin t-shirts."

One of hands at that had been busy stuffing himself back into his trousers migrated over to her chest and began to caress one of the afore-mentioned tips.

"I rather like it when they're up to greet me … like this."

Lost in the sea of pleasure Prop created with his hands and tongue, she heard his whispered request only on repeat.

"Mona…let me make you feel good. As good as you've made me feel….please, honey."

And he got his answer when she opened her legs and guided his hand down to dip into incredibly silky creaminess.


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

Early December Mona looked into the mirror in the hall. Boots, brown cord jeans, light brown sweater, black base cap that hid large parts of her blond hair and her black denim vest. Would she be recognised by _them_? At least she tried to look as inconspicuously as possible. Ida made an odd sound as she looked her daughter. It was a noise between a gasp and a chortle.

"What are you wearing?" she couldn't help but asking. "All this brown…you look like a neurotic wallflower and the base cap is just awful!" She tried to pull it off, but Mona held quickly on to it.

"Let go! Why can't we go here? Why do we have to go to Murano? Venice is full of gynaecologists."

"Because it's where Dr. Giovanni has her practice. And why are you so suddenly opposed to Murano? You always liked it there. And I've heard that there are a new glass sculptures…."

Ida referred to the large glass sculptures that were placed along the main _fondamenta _that lead to the glass museum on Murano and were a popular photo shooting location for the awed tourists.

"I'm not opposed to Murano. I'm just…" She shrugged.

Ida looked at her daughter before she took her into her arms.

"Oh, sweetie. I understand. You're nervous. But believe me, there's no need to be nervous. You'll see that Dr. Giovanni is very kind and understanding. She will make some examinations, talk to you and then you can leave again with the prescription. Do you want me to go in with you?"

Mona stared at the wall behind her mother. She wasn't nervous. At least not about the visit at her mother's gynaecologist. She knew where she and Prop were heading to. He was ready and she wanted it, too. What filled her with worry was that the practice was on Murano – the islands were Benito's gangland. Going to Murano, where the gang had its lair was like going into a lion's den. She would be easy to spot, if she didn't wear a disguise that wouldn't be immediately recognised as one.

"Let's go, mom. I want to get over with this."

Ida took her daughter's face between her hands and looked at her searchingly.

"Is something wrong? Does Scipio pressure you into this? You have to tell me, Mona."

"What? No! Certainly not. We've talked about this. It's a shared decision."

Mona smiled inwardly. Indeed, they had talked to Scipio, that is Prosper had. He as her pretend-to-be-boyfriend had to know what was going on in Mona's and Prosper's relationship, lest he acted surprised or said the wrong things when he talked to her mother or Victor. Scipio was like the son of the house by now. Her mom adored him and even Victor had become quite fond of him.

Ida looked for a moment longer into her daughter's eyes, before she smiled and let her go. So soon, much too soon… her daughter turned into a young and beautiful woman she took pride in. She and Scipio did the sensible thing and have her go on the pill before they took the last step. They were level-headed enough not to let themselves carried away at the spur of the moment and the rush of excitement and apparently Mona trusted her again, which was the most important thing for Ida.

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Three quarters of an hour later both women set foot onto Murano and hastened immediately through the pouring rain to the small _calle_, where Dr. Giovanni had her practice in one of the picturesque and colourful houses, which were the main characteristic feat of the island next to glass. Protected by a large umbrella Mona breathed a sigh of relief. They were almost there and there was no sign of a member of Benito's gang. Perhaps the weather was bad enough that they stayed in their lair. But then her gaze fell onto a teenager smoking a cigarette under the awning of a small shop that sold the usual assortment of Murano glass, trinkets, postcards and other bits and pieces. And their gaze met. He straightened up and looked puzzled before stared hard back. Mona was startled. Had he recognised her somehow? How? They had only seen each other once, when Scipio and Annia had met at the Quarter Festival months ago. Hardly enough to make a lasting impression she had thought, especially with her wearing something so boring. But if she recognised him, why shouldn't he, too? Ida noticed him, too.

"Why is he staring at us?"

Mona didn't reply loudly, but in her thoughts she answered her. _He doesn't stare at us or you, mom, only at me. And if fates don't smile down on me, we may have just started a gang war._ Both kept on hastening towards the house of Dr. Giovanni's practice. Mona hesitated and flushed. This was what she needed least. That Benito's gang knew more about her love life than her own family. It was embarrassing enough that Scipio knew.

"_Ciao, bellissima_. Do you have an Euro or a kiss for me?" he addressed boldly Mona's back. Ida froze for a moment, before she turned around to give the teenager a piece of her mind. Mona turned pale and dragged her mother along.

"Come on, mom. He just wants to provoke us. Ignore him."

"_Bellisma_, tell the _tedesco_ that I hope he knows how to appreciate your treats. Benito sure would. And also those of the black-haired witch, the feisty one." And with a crude gesture he sauntered away.

Mona flinched. Per se the teenager hadn't threatened her. It could be taken as a very twisted compliment. One _could_, but she wouldn't. Her knees trembled. It weren't the words that had frightened her, but the look in his eyes, when he had said it. Ida was lived. How dare this boy threat and insult her daughter.

"It's unbelievable, what some teenagers think they can get away with! I'm very liberal-minded and strongly opposed to beating your children as a means of education, but when I meet one of these, I sure think that a slap at the right time would have done a world of good to them. And I can't shake the feeling that you know him and this _tedesco_ or Benito."

"No, I don't. I know neither. I guess he mistook me for another girl. He's just a punk who gets a kick out of upsetting women. Just forget about him."

Ida sighed. She knew her daughter was right, but she just couldn't let this be. Mona on the other hand thought hard about the next steps. She would have to tell Annia and warn her to be extra careful from now on. On the other hand wasn't that what the boy had wanted to achieve? That they got nervous? That they lived their lives looking constantly over their shoulders? That would be no life at all. When she passed the threshold of the small house, Mona had come to the conclusion that she wouldn't tell anyone.

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Two hours later mother and daughter were sitting over a hot cocoa and a cappuccino in a small _trattoria_. Mona rather would have left the island immediately after her appointment, but Ida loved Murano and its quietness – at least compared to Venice. And it brought back very fond memories of the early years of Victor and her. When his "Venetian Mysteries" started to really sell Victor had lived in one of these houses, in fact not far from this little _trattoria_. And often enough they had spent their lunch time here at "Luigi's" discussing plots or occasionally what had been going on in their private lives. Mona's progress in elementary school and Victor's escapades, when it came to trying to find a new lover. Victor, enough of a gentleman, had never told any details or names, but still he managed to entertain her with little funny stories of failure and success. Back then he had been a regular Don Juan. Come to think of, when had that stopped? When his _Commissario_ Donario had become one of the most popular police officers in the world of literary crime along with Poirot, Wallander and Lynley and he had moved into the _casa _in Fondamenta Bollani? Or after they had moved in with him a short time later along with a cook? At first she had been reluctant to move in with Mona, but Victor had been very persuasive, stating among some other very good reasons, why it was best and most convenient they stayed with him, for instance that Venice had better schools than Maghera and was healthier for a small child. Back then several severe environmental scandals involving Maghera and its chemical industry had upset the entire Veneto and had even caused some ripples as far away as Rome and Brussels. And so she had moved into the _casa_. Naturally everyone had assumed and still did she hadn't been just his secretary but his lover, too – no wonder with his reputation. Ida had found it at times quite amusing and then again insulting. But most of the times she simply ignored it, knowing that people believed what they wanted regardless of facts. For Mona it had been a rough start also. Classmates asked her about her and Victor or mindlessly repeated the ugly rumours about her mother and the writer.

Victor …. Even if many months had passed, she still could recall in bright colours the look of sudden hunger in his eyes and her own corresponding sudden flash of heat, when the _incident_, as she liked to call it, had occurred in the kitchen of all places! They had never spoken of it again, but she still thought of it often, maybe too often she had to admit, and she knew him well enough to know that he also hadn't forgotten it yet. What bothered her most was that she still didn't know, if it had been an once-in-a-lifetime-aberration or a sign of their relationship slowly changing. And would she prefer the former or the latter? If something were to happen between the two of them, how would Mona cope with it? It had always been just them, mother and daughter. Would she accept Victor in his new role as a father? Wouldn't that inevitably raise questions about her true father? Questions she rather not answered? And what if it didn't work between Victor and her? She would have to go and find a new job. Maybe leave Venice altogether, uproot Mona and separate her from her first big love. Besides she loved working with and for Victor. There was hardly a chance that she'd ever find something similar again.

Ida paused in the middle of raising the cup to her mouth. What was she thinking?! She seriously considered starting a relationship with him! Well, at least it answered her question, whether she preferred the status quo or the changing. And now? Leave it to Victor to make the first step? But maybe there would never be a first step at all? Maybe it _had _been an aberration and Victor still thought about it because he still feel ashamed? Ida knew that it probably would be for the best for all of them, but it left her slightly depressed.

Mona was daydreaming about Prosper. The prescription burned a hole in her pocket figuratively speaking and the girl couldn't wait to tell him. And then there were the questions of when and where _it_ should happen. No way that it would happen in the Stella. This much was clear. Somehow they were never alone and the roof balcony held no appeal for her either. Neither did the Beach. Briefly she recalled how she had got almost crazy with superstitious fear when the boys had taken their girlfriends there for an undisturbed afternoon of cuddling. She still couldn't quite believe it, even when she had seen the caroussel. But hard facts couldn't be refuted. No, tacky as it was, she wanted a cosy and romantic atmosphere for their very first time. A real bed and not only an old mattress or sleeping bag. But there was no bed for them. There was always someone with her at night at home and she and Prosper couldn't very well go into a hotel for a few hours. She giggled a bit red-faced.

Ida looked up and smiled, grateful to be distracted from her own love life that just had taken a very complicated and unforeseen and unplanned turn.

"Well, daydreaming about Scipio?" she winked.

Mona nodded getting even darker.

"Mom, do you…"

But Mona never got to finish her question. Both ladies were distracted by the sudden commotion in the front area of the _trattoria_. A man and a woman had entered. She was crying, clutching a hand to her left chest and the man alternately tried to calm her down and shouted for the police and an ambulance.

Soon enough the story was told, while the still trembling lady sipped a glass of water she had been given to help her swallow her pills against a weak heart. Another guest of the _trattoria _and luckily a doctor carefully monitored her pulse and heart rate. Together they waited for the ambulance boat. She still hold on to a plastic bag that now contained the shattered pieces of what was once a very beautiful and expensive vase. The elderly couple had stepped out of the shop of Massimo Glassware, when they suddenly had been surrounded by a gang of teenagers. Three or four, one had an ugly scar on his face, and a girl had threatened them and demanded their money, their jewels, watches and also the lady's winter coat.

Outraged shouts could be heard from the commiserating guests. It was high time that the police did something about the gang that lived in the old and deserted factory at the other end of the island. Others shouted that the gang had never harmed one of the inhabitants. They only robbed tourists. And one should leave the poor children alone. They had it difficult enough as it was.

A man left his table and pushed his way the crowd and stepped up to the man, who was now in a heated discussion with the _tenente _and his_ sergente_, who listened and jotted down some notes and tried to assuage the exited and angry man who worriedly touched his wife's shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir. My name is Marcello Fano. I'm the personal assistant of Dr. Massimo, the guild-master of Venice glass-blowers and owner and managing director of Massimo Glassware. On behalf of him and Murano I'd like to apologise to you for this traumatic experience. I'm sure the ambulance will be here in no time and the police will take you, sir, to your hotel afterwards, should your wife need to stay overnight at the hospital. M'am, if you'd be so kind to give me your bag… certainly we will replace what you bought in our shop. And this time there will be actions against this gang of little punks."

He stared hard at the _tenente_, who nodded. If he told the _dottore_, the _dottore_- not happy that once again tourists who left good money in his shop were robbed - would call without doubt the _questore_ of Venice and then questions would be asked why for such a long time no actions had been executed against the gang. And then he would have to give some explanations that had a lot to do with decency and compassion but very little with law enforcement. And he would be at least reprimanded and it would be marked in his personal file. And maybe he would even have to step back from his post as highest police authority on Murano, if the _dottore_ was annoyed enough. After all this time people could have got hurt badly. A dead tourist on Murano was really bad publicity and damaging to the business.

And once again voices stated how generous the good _dottore_ was and how much he did for Murano and the tourism and for Venice at large. And what shame it was that the police was unable to protect tourists like inhabitants from the gang. But this time, they had got too far. The poor sick lady, no coat and with the heavy rain and the cold…. It was finally high time that they got behind bars or at least to the Merciful Sisters.

A maybe 14 years old teenager and incidentally the son of the _trattoria_'s owner stepped back slowly and when he was sure that nobody took notice he rushed out of the door. If the fucking high and mighty _dottore _Massimo, of whom everyone was so pathetically afraid of, yet awed as if the man hadn't to piss and shit as well as everyone else, got involved in this, his friends stood no chance at all. He had to warn them! They had to leave immediately lest the police got them. They could return later, maybe next summer, when people had forgot about the old bat.

Mona felt like a huge weight had lifted from her shoulders. The police would take care of Benito, the Scarface and his gang. They would spent the next hundred years in the borstal or with the Sisters. They didn't pose a threat any longer to her family. And Scipio and Prosper wouldn't have to practice anymore for the big bang which they expected to come sooner or later between the two gangs. Just these days Prosper began to turn the tables on Scipio and give him back a few black marks for all the times Scipio had Prosper attacked with fists and wooden knifes and thrown him onto the mats in the Stella. They were free! She felt like singing and dancing in the rain.

"Mom, since it doesn't look like letting up at all any time soon… How about sharing a small cake with me? I feel like celebrating."

"Oh, do you?"

"What do you think about the one with the pistachio cream filling?"

"Mona, that one has about a zillion calories… What would Scipio say?" She teased a bit.

"Nothing at all, mom. His feelings for me wouldn't change one bit, if I looked like a whale."

She grinned widely, because for once it was the utter truth. Scipio really didn't care at all about how she looked. Prosper, however, might not be as happy. But once didn't hurt. This was a special occasion and she would loose any potential extra weight she might gain from half a zillion calories in swim training anyway.

"Then let's do it."

Ida waved the waiter and ordered another round of beverages and the cake. And hesitated a moment before the first bite, when she suddenly thought about what Victor might think, if she started to look like a whale. With conscious effort she wiped the thought away and indulged herself with her daughter, determined to add another ten minutes on the stepper this evening.

_To be continued..._


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

_comment 1: I'm on a roll, I'm on holidays and the weather is really bad. But I have a laptop, my notes and an internet connnection. So deal with it!  
_

_Comment 2: After we have left Ida on the verge of falling in love with Victor and not knowing if she likes it or not, we take a look at Lorenzo and Marlena._

„And no wild party, do you understand? And leave the house-bar alone. I don't want to return and find the _casa_ in a heap of ruins and a dozen teenagers sleeping off their inebriation."

Dutifully Scipio nodded and shook his head. Marlena smiled.

"Oh come on, Lorenzo. He'll manage, right, Mio? It's only two days."

"Marlena's right. I manage. No wild parties and no alcohol. I got it."

"And lock the door at night. Don't forget to activate the alarm!"

"Yes, father. No, father. I won't forget. I think you should better go now. Otherwise you won't catch the train." Scipio looked pointedly at his watch for the second time in so many minutes.

"Right. Adriano, let's go."

"Oh, Mio, this is a note with the address and telephone number of our hotel and other useful information you might need. You can reach us there just in case. Or give Adriano a call. He'll be here in a minute, if anything happens." She reached up to give him a hug and to whisper into his ear "_When it comes to ironing, you're on your own_." She winked and laughed softly at his flabbergasted expression.

"See you next year, Scipio."

"Have a nice stay in Milano, Marlena, father. And enjoy "_The Magic Flute_". See you next year."

He watched Adriano helping Marlena sitting down in the _"Angelina"_ and waved for a last time when they left before he turned on his heels to enter the empty _casa_.

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"What else have you given him with the note? And what was this whispering about?" Lorenzo couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. Marlena snuggled a bit closer ot him. Since Christmas it had got really cold in Venice and the meteorologists predicted the new year would start with a cold spell that would maybe last through the entire January.

"Nothing special. Just a little advice in case he wants to change the linen - a small instruction how to use the washing machine and the laundry dryer."

"WHAT?! You mean…?"

"I mean, I'd be seriously disappointed if he spends his nights alone."

She giggled, partly at Lorenzo's shocked expression and partly over Scipio's behaviour just minutes ago.

"Have you noticed how eager he was to get rid of us? He can be so adorable sometimes."

"Marlena, please."

"Oh, pooh! You know as well as I do, that this is _the_ opportunity for him. All grown-ups gone and he's got the _casa_ all for himself for an entire weekend and on top it's New Year's Eve tomorrow. You can't possibly expect him to behave like a good little boy."

"No, certainly not. This is why I specifically forbid any parties."

"Has it ever occurred to you that he might not have many friends and that there won't be any party?"

"Why not? He's a Massimo."

"Exactly. He's a Massimo and that means that at least half of the people he knows either want something from him or just want to be there to watch him fall from grace. Every day you deal with all these bootlickers that bow and smile in front of you, only to badmouth you as soon as you turn your back on them. What makes you think that he hasn't to deal with them as well? And it certainly isn't any easier for him since he's gay as you say."

"Not so loud. I don't want _toute_ Venice to know. It's bad enough as it is without it being splashed all over the papers. And what do you mean by as you say? I know what I saw!"

He looked briefly at Adriano in front steering the boat, but knew everything that he heard would stay with him.

"Yes, but you also told me that he looked quite dishevelled, tired but very satisfied when this lady left him. So maybe it's only a phase he's going through."

"Lord, I sure hope so. It's been half a year now and still no signs of a girlfriend. Haven't I done everything and still more? I can't stand the thought of… "

"….him sleeping peacefully in the arms of another boy?" Marlena finished to the point. Lorenzo wriggled uncomfortably in his seat.

"Yes. Maybe I shouldn't have let Teresa take off a few days. Now with Violetta taking care of her sister's family as long as she's in hospital, I really don't feel comfortable knowing he's all alone. Oh, Marlena, what am I supposed to do?"

"Ssh. Leave it behind for a few days. Try to relax. Give yourself a breather and let me take your mind off it. I promise, everything will turn out for the best at the end." She soothed him with her gentlest voice.

"But what is the best? Help me." He looked at her. She took his face into her hands and gave him a tender kiss.

"We'll make it, I promise. And now let's get on the train to Mozart. You shouldn't start a new year with old worries."

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Minutes later they had found their first class compartment and settled down with a small bottle of champagne.

"You haven't given me any opportunity to properly thank you for this wonderful gift yet. I feel like a forty-one year old fairy tale princess " She laughed softly.

Llights danced in her eyes, when she was happy, he thought not for the first time and bent a bit over to give her a peck on the lips.

"You're very welcome. You deserve to be treated like a princess once in a while. And I'm happy, that it makes you so happy that you at least inwardly bounce up and down from sheer anticipation." He smiled amused.

"Yes, I guess I am. You know, you're a very dangerous man, Lorenzo. You know me far too well. I should be more careful around you." Her voice took on a flirting quality.

Lorenzo's smile deepened and he gave her hand a squeeze. Indeed, he knew her well. He quickly calculated. Almost 20 years by now, more or less half of his whole life. And he had come to rely on her presence in it. Sometimes as a companion, sometimes as a guardian and sometimes as his conscience and best and unselfish advisor in all aspects of his life. If it came to her god-child Scipio, a business deal or new strategy he wasn't entirely sure about or putting together the guest-list of a party or discussing the decoration and the food with the caterer. He remembered even occasions, where she told him to get rid of a tie and take another one. Yes, he couldn't imagine his life without her anymore and with each passing year he came to appreciate this fact more and more.

He looked at her from the side. She had never been as beautiful as Christina or never had had this wild fire in her or this relentless drive to heal the wounds of the weakest – a drive equal to his own, that had drawn him to his wife like a moth to a flame. No, she lacked all this, but she had something else that was so much more precious to him now apart from all else. She possessed the elegance of a lady. A lady with glasses and exactly these ten pounds too much that made her all soft and female. A lady with an independent and razor-sharp mind and not afraid to speak her mind and yet so much warmth to give. This sensual woman taught him to see the beauty of this world and how to truly enjoy it. Whether it was a painting she could fill with life like no one else and that made her so popular among her students of art history at university, a sculpture by Cellini, a good dinner, a rare wine, an simple exhibition of flowers, music, even the shape or colour of a glass object, upon he had previously only looked with a price tag in his mind, or a massage that lasted for hours and left him, when he received it, at least as relaxed and content as if he had made love to her, or that gave him greatest satisfaction, when he pleased her with the tender caressing of her skin until the wee hours of the morning.

Looking back down the years she just had been the witty and pretty best friend of his girlfriend, then fiancee and then wife Christina. During the painful divorce, which he alternately deeply regretted and then again welcomed as the best solution for a standoff, she had been the objective friend for both Christina and him. And when Christina had left the country, she had begun to take her role as godmother very seriously and softened and smoothed things for the traumatised child he acknowledged thankfully. She often was the cushion between him and Scipio. And then it somehow started between them. He had needed an undemanding escort to a gala or a party here and there. He hadn't been ready to play the field again nor he had had the time. And there had been way too many who would have loved to sink their claws into him and the treasure chest. She kept them all at bay for him. And one night it had happened. The dinner party had been excellent, Marlena had been brilliant giving keenly observant comments on all topics imaginable and maybe the wine had been just too fiery and he had felt too lonely. But when he had taken her to her home, he hadn't kept it at a chaste good night kiss on the cheek and a thank you for a lovely evening.

Yet, after so many years this was the first time they would go away together for a few days. Maybe he ought to rent a small chalet or book rooms in an exquisite small hotel in the Dolomites during _Carnevale _in February, when the entire city was in the state of emergency and all sensible people fled. They could go skiing. Not really surprised Lorenzo thought about making Marlena an even more permanent fixture in his life. Many reasons spoke for it. And yet there was one that spoke clearly against it and overruled them all. Marlena was a nightingale that would never sing in a cage. She simply valued…

... her independence and freedom too much. But right at this moment, heading for Milano to hear one of the most promising opera divas of the new century, she was almost ready to give up her independence and freedom for the rest of her life. And she was almost ready to give her sentiment for him the name it deserved – love. But she was also experienced enough to know that no fairy tale could ever last. Lorenzo had a problem of succession like so many truly great men. Even if Scipio as firstborn broke with the tradition and wouldn't serve his country but head the company, it would solve only part of the problem and only for a few years down into the future. Because if Scipio truly was a hundred percent gay, he would be the last of the family. And she knew Lorenzo would never be able to cope with it. Soon he would realise that he needed another son to continue the bloodline and keep the family name alive. Family honour dictated it. And soon enough he would need to start looking for a much younger wife and her days beside him would be numbered. No other woman right in her mind would ever tolerate her presence and allow a potential rival to live so close to them and so intertwined with their lives. No, even if Lorenzo didn't see it yet or deluded himself. This trip was the beginning of the end for the both of them. But for once she would be selfish and not make it easy for him by pulling slowly back. She would stand right next to him until the very end, when he would stumbling tell her with a bad conscience that he had come to say goodbye to marry another woman. But there was definitely no need to ruin a beautiful trip by crying over something that was still in the future.

"Hey, everything okay? You look as if you're ready to cry." Lorenzo was alarmed.

"Certainly it is. I'm just so happy, Lorenzo, that you do this for me. I know how much you dislike the opera when the high voices of the singers hit the high "C" and make your eardrums bleed."

"Hush, I love giving you this evening tomorrow. It's no sacrifice for me, you know that. I'm really looking forward to spending time with you alone on this trip."

He truly did. And it must have shown on his face, because Marlena smiled through watery eyes. No, she would live the last moments with him as intensely as she could. In her head she heard the unforgettable voice of her favourite singer Edith Piaf.

_Non…rien de rien. Non, je ne regrette rien…_


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

_Comment: I suggest you go to youtube and find "No one like you" by The Scorpions in case you want to sing along with Scipio…_

Sighing deeply and relieved Scipio pushed the door close with his back and his small smile got wider until it threatened to split his face. A chuckle escaped him and he jumped straight up into the air and whooped before he raced upstairs into his room. A minute later he raced down again and the door fell shut with a loud bang. So much to do and so little time.

One and a half hour later his key opened the grand entrance door again. Yes, his key. First thing he had done was to make a duplicate of the key to the _casa_. He would never have to climb up the rope again to come home late at night. He would let himself in through the door like every regular person. However, the catch was that his father's bedroom was at the other end of the hall. Dangerous, but not impossible to sneak in and out. Well, he would think about it later. At least he had now a _choice_.

A small bag with chips, chocolate and sweets as well as a German dessert called "_Goetterspeise_" he had picked up intrigued by the name – Goetter plural of Gott that is God and Speise as in food - at the foreign delicatessen corner of the large supermarket between Piazzale Roma and the cruise terminal was left in the kitchen for further use.

Five minutes later Andromeda fled his room to hide under the couch in the living-room and still she couldn't escape the loud tunes of his favourite Internet classic rock station echoing through the empty house. Scipio had connected his laptop to the speakers of his sound system and turned up the volume to max. Whistling along under his breath he fetched a delicate glass vase for the single long-stemmed deep-red rose that had cost a small fortune right in the middle of winter. Together with abag of other things he put it away until he would need them later that night.

He entered his room again and carefully inspected it. It looked okay to his eyes. Righting a stack of school-books on his desk in passing, he directed his gaze to his bedside table. In the book, opened and turned over, Harry Potter still read the educational decree number 24 of the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts. Since he had met Annia that night, when she had come to dinner with her parents and they had taken an instant dislike to each other, he hadn't read a single line. Feeling a bit melancholic he picked it up and skimmed over the page. He had always thought he would find time to finish it. But it had never happened. Every night he fell into bed between midnight and one o'clock, tired to the bones, only to get up again five to six hours later. He couldn't remember anymore, when he had slept more than five to maximum seven hours per night. Scipio wondered briefly for how much longer he could keep up with this life-style – school, lectures in self-defence, personal fitness or fencing practise, then homework, early supper, then sneaking out to the Stella to teach Prop and meet Annia, if his father didn't request his presence for one reason or another, not to mention that every other night of baby sitting Hornet needed to be picked up and escorted back to the Stella, then the rest of his homework, finally bed. Just in November Prosper had experienced a small nervous crisis caused by the additional stress of his mother's first death day. And Annia and Mona weren't so far behind. Each of them hadn't had a regular teenage day in almost a year apart from the holidays. Was that how being grown-up felt like? Sighing he pushed the depressing thoughts aside for the moment. Each and everyone of them would carry on until they dropped. Not because they had to, but because they wanted to. After all they had a family and its well-being to take care of.

Resolutely he shut the book to put it away for good. He had lost interest anyway. His world was truly exciting enough and he had his own Voldemorts to fight against. Although, now that the police had removed Scarface's gang from the streets, as Mona had announced, they had one worry less to think of. He opened the drawer of his bedside table for checking. Selena's farewell present was still there, but the small box was half empty by now. Yes, he had taken her advice serious and had started practising on self-control and getting familiar with the use of condoms. When it happened between him and Annia, he would be excited enough and have no patience to awkwardly fumble with one. Besides it would make Annia nervous as well, if she got the impression that he didn't knew how to properly put them on. Even if Annia hadn't given him any positive sign as to this matter, one could always hope. His gaze fell onto his bed. Maybe she would agree to at least sleep in his arms this night. Singing loudly but not quite hitting the notes he started to change his linen.

"…_There's no one like you_

_I can't wait for the nights with you_

_I imagine the things we do_

_I just want to be loved by you…"_

Suddenly he paused. Had the door bell rung just a second ago? Scipio turned down the volume and, indeed, the door bell rang downstairs. He smiled as he looked at his watch. It was most probably Prosper, punctual to the minute. Fine, he could help him with the linen. Minutes later the boys entered laughing about Bo's latest antics and chatting. Curious Prosper looked around.

"Setting the tone for tonight?"

"Huh?"

"Somewhere a window must be open. The music's been so loud, it probably could be heard over at Mona's. Imagine, what her mother and Victor must think…." He wriggled his eyebrows.

"Exactly the right thing, if I'm not mistaken. So don't embarrass your tutor tonight and leave Mona unsatisfied. Besides, I don't want to have to explain things to Victor, if Mona's going to be unhappy. Remember, everything you do or don't do, falls directly back on me."

"Oh, good, that I don't suffer from performance anxiety, oh great master of love."

Scipio put his tongue out to him across the bed and threw a pillow at his friend.

"Here, stuff it into the pillow case, tiger. And then we have to start on the guest-rooms."

"Guest-rooms? Plural?"

"One for you and Mona and one for Annia. Whatever happens or doesn't happen tonight between us, she calls the shots." He pointed down to his bed. "I just want to be prepared."

Prop grinned amused.

"Hey, someone around here has his own agenda for tonight, isn't it?"

Scip showed his trademark roguish smile.

"Maybe. If I let her call the shots, it doesn't mean that I won't try to influence her decision. Sometimes she needs a bit of a shove into the right direction."

"In that case you might want to shave as well. You've got a blue shadow under your nose. Mona hates it, when I scratch and tickle her."

Scipio ran a finger over his skin.

"Only a slight stubble. I just shaved two days ago. But you're right. I better do. I want to take a shower anyway before the girls come."

Their eyes met.

"Nervous?"

"No, not really. It's more like excited anticipation." Answered Prop truthfully.

"You know", Scipio hesitated, "I'm rather envious of you."

"What do you mean?" Prop asked immediately and a bit wary. Truth was, even if he trusted Mona and Scipio implicitly, it hurt to know that Scipio could come and go at Mona's as he pleased.

"Not what you think. I love Annia. It's just… with her it's two steps forward and one step back. Sometimes I really don't know what's going on with her and where we stand in our relationship. You and Mona on the other hand, you make it look so easy. Everything always falls immediately into the right place for you guys."

"It only looks that way. Trust me, Scip. We have our disagreements, too. Perhaps…we're a little less… emotional. You're both so hot-headed. It's always a small drama with you… Maybe you ought to step back sometimes, think before you talk, go out and walk a round or two to calm down and clear your heads before you let your disagreement escalate into a full-blown fight… Ah ah, don't go on the defence here, Scipio. I want to help."

The fires of his eyes dimmed again and on Scipio's furious face spread a small smile.

"Selena said communication is the key. Evidently she's forgot to mention that the way how you communicate is important, too."

Prop smiled and nodded.

"Exactly. So, tiger, stop dawdling. Otherwise the girls are here before we're done with the preparations."

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"Mona, Annia's here."

Ida opened the door to her daughter's room to let her daughter's best friend carrying a bag enter. She smiled. So there was a party for more than one couple planned over at the _Casa_ Massimo.

"Hey, Mona."

"Hi, Annia. Sorry, I haven't finished packing yet. But sit down."

"Take your time. Isn't it great, hmh? Finally you're going to stay overnight at the Stella, too. You'll see, it's totally wicked. Only that the lights are never completely switched off one needs to get used to."

"What are you talking about, Annia? I'm not going to stay at the Stella. Hasn't Scip said anything to you? Prop and I stay until Sunday, when his father and Marlena come back."

Annia was taken aback. Did that mean that she was supposed to stay, too?! Why hadn't Scipio told her?! Shivers of dread and strange anticipation ran down her spine.

"You stay overnight? Are you going to….?" She blushed a bit, considering the highly personal question she was asking her best friend. Mona turned around from her wardrobe to look at her friend sitting on her bed. She bit her lip before she made the decision to tell her everything should she ask.

"Yes. I'm on the pill for about three weeks now. And tonight's the night for us. I want our first time in a bed. And this is an occasion that won't reoccur soon."

"You're on the pill!? Why haven't you told me?"

"I haven't because of your situation with Scipio. Mom went with me."

"Just like this? Gosh, your mom's really cool. When my mother just hears the word sex, she faints. Sometimes I really wonder how my parents managed to have three children."

"Don't know. Perhaps you just ask them?" Mona answered not really meaning it.

"Are you mad, sis? There are things I really don't want to know about my parents. Just the thought alone, that they perhaps still do it…..yak. Besides they're almost fifty by now." She shuddered.

Mona laughed.

"So you think sex comes with a date of expiry?"

"Mona, please! Rather tell me… how do you know, you're ready, you know? This is a huge step after all."

Seeing the worry and the anxiousness on her friend's face, Mona sat down on the bed next to her.

"I don't know. I just am."

Annia looked back at her with confusion written all over her face. Blushing crimson Mona searched her mind how to put this feeling into words.

"When Prop and I are really at _it_….." Annia nodded to show she knew what Mona was talking about. "It's like I get this overwhelming need…to feel…him…moving in me. And then I think I go crazy if I don't feel it soon, you know what I mean?" She rushed.

"Kinda."

"I want to be one with Prop."

"The merging of two souls into one."

"Ahm, maybe not quite that but really close."

"Aren't you afraid?"

"Of what? I know it will hurt and I won't get much out of it the first time. Everything else is just fairy tales. But once we're over with it, we can work on making it perfect for both of us."

She smiled embarrassed, yet with confidence. Annia sighed.

"Listening to you, it sounds so easy."

"It is. You make it complicated. Just go with the flow. Stop thinking. Stop having second thoughts. Start trusting Scipio."

"What are you saying? That I ought to sleep with Scipio tonight, too?"

"No. I can't tell you what to do. You have to decide for yourself. Every couple has its own dynamics. Don't make the mistake of being hell-bent on trying to imitate us. It'll make things worse, I think. Look, just because it's the night for us, it doesn't have to mean, it's yours as well. Relax and see, where it leads you and then you can talk to him. And now stop looking like a frightened rabbit. First we're going to cook, so keep Scipio away from the stove. He can shine when it comes to the salad. Then we watch this movie and then…whatever happens will happen. One way or the other, we're all going to have fun tonight."

Annia grinned, feeling a bit more secure.

"A night worth remembering."

"A night unsurpassed by any other."

"A night like none before in the history of mankind."

"A night worth telling your grand-children about."

The girls looked at each other and burst out giggling.

"Nah…"

"Okay, let's get your stuff packed and rolling."

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A quarter of an hour later Annia rang the door-bell at the _casa_ Massimo and mere seconds later, it opened to reveal both Scipio and Prosper.

"About time! Come in." They were greeted impatiently.

_to be continued…_


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

Still standing in the foyer, the girls were immediately captured by their grand surroundings.

Wide-eyed Mona looked around. "Wow!" she breathed.

"Yeah. It's like the _palazzi_ at _Canal Grande_." Annia agreed with her.

"Maybe, but this is still a home, not a tourist attraction." Scipio objected.

"Prop, have you already seen this?" Mona turned to her boyfriend.

"No, we've been busy preparing everything."

"Would you like a tour of the _casa_?" Scipio smiled, an idea formed behind his glittering eyes.

The girls nodded. And Scipio turned into a tour guide.

"Very well, the entrance fee is either five Euros per person or a kiss of a beautiful girl. Children under 8 years are free."

The girls giggled and Annia paid immediately. Then Scipio turned with a challenge in his eyes to Mona, who gave her friend a lingering kiss on his cheek.

"Do you mind that I've paid for Prop as well? I don't think he's got the right currency at hand."

"Well, we accept Euros, US-Dollars and British Pounds. No cards. We have also an audio tour guide in German for the gentleman over there. The lending fee would be 5 Euros as well."

Saucily he showed the amused Mona his other cheek. Good-naturedly Prosper took over the part of the jealous and irritated tourist, who didn't like the way his usually reliable, sensible, undemanding girl suddenly looked at the Italian guide.

"Thank you, but I think I'll be able to follow your explanations." He rolled his eyes and snorted "Italian", before he led Mona a bit away from Scipio.

Scipio chuckled. "Venetian, if you will!"

"Very well. Ladies and gentleman, if you would step right over here, we start with a short story about the origins of the family that built this beautiful _casa_ 1578 to1583. The first documented reference is an entry in the parish register on Torcello of a marriage between Giacomo Masímo and Regina Otaro in 1421. Two years later the property registers show the purchase of a plot on Murano. The Otari were a renowned family of glass blowers and therefore we assume that Giacomo Masímo was a young master who married a daughter of that family and built up his own manufacture. Fact is the business went well and barely 150 years later the family had become successful merchants, too, and was wealthy enough to build this house, which is still in family possession. The current owner is _dottore_ Lorenzo Massimo, a well respected and highly successful business man. To date the family stayed true to its founding years and still produces and deals with glassware.

Please try to keep up, as we're about to enter the ceremonial room of the _casa_. Mind the mosaic of black granite on the floor of white Carrera marble. It shows a vase and beneath two crossed swords which is family crest and company emblem at the same time. It's a long time tradition of the family to have the firstborn male serve the Republic of Venice as soldier, that is Italy nowadays and the second son to take over the business, hence this dualism of glass and swords. You will find this coat of arms mirrored on the ceiling, which was done in 1699. Examinations have shown that underneath the white paint originally colourful frescos had been painted, but due to the extremely poor preservation, they have never been recovered up to day. Now direct your eyes to the remaining frescos. They show various religious motives and are a work of Jacopo and Domenico Tintoretto in 1583. Please follow me over here. It's not visible anymore but this is the spot where the four year old son of the _dottore_ worked to improve this fresco by adding a moustache to the shepherd lying in the grass with wax crayons. Thank God, the fresco could be restored. We have it on good authority that this resulted in the attempted murder of the young artist, which was impeded by the brave intervention of its mother and a group of a hundred _carabinieri_ and that ended in a ban to step into this room for the next six years." Even if Scipio tried to make fun of it by shamelessly exhilarating, they saw his pain and knew it must have been truly awful for him.

"This room is still in use for various festivities or when the owner wants to impress potential business partner and intimidate public servants. From the balcony you have a better view of the paintings. But let's go. On the other side of the fountain is a small room, less magnificent, but still with beautiful tapestries dated back to the 18th century. Until about 30 years ago it was a small private museum. The objects are now lent to the glass museum on Murano."

Thoroughly enjoying Scipio's performance as an tour guide, they looked into the many splendid rooms and learnt two things about their friend. First of all, they had known Scipio's family was rich, but it had been more of an abstract concept to them. Now it turned very real, as they looked at the gold and white stucco in baroque style on walls and ceilings, large and heavy crystal chandeliers, Venetian mirrors, the family portrays, the expensive but modern furniture, the many objects of greater and lesser value. And listening to his explanations they understood so much better where he was coming from, what it truly meant to be a Massimo and the kind of standing they had within the Venetian society. Almost all the first families of former times, the Contarini, the Camerlenghi, the Bastuti, the Loredani, the Alviesi, the Falieri, the Otari and many, many more were gone. But the Massimi had kept their wealth and their social standing and were still of considerable influence and power. They listened to him and understood the burden and the pride, the obligation and the privilege, the power and the vulnerability, the honour and the responsibility. The family wasn't just glass-blower and merchants - they were a dynasty.

The tour ended up on third floor, where Teresa, cook and matron and Violetta, the maid had their rooms at one end of the corridor. On the other side laid additional servants rooms, now unused. Scipio opened one and their eyes fell on dozens of thin wood boxes – protection for paintings.

"Here, this is what I really wanted to show you. When we were visiting my grand-parents for Christmas, I asked nan about a certain person and where to find his portray. She's very interested in our family history and has collected many documents, letters, records, diaries and such and has been working for years on a family chronicle. It's a sort of a hobby for her. That and the growing of roses. This is why they live in winter on the estate near Treviso and the other half of the year they live in their small cottage in Cornwall. Strange, isn't it? An Italian in Cornwall… But she loves gardening and claims Cornwall is the best place for this and my grand-father takes a lot of interest in the history of the Romans in England and collects Scottish whisky in his old days. It's perfect for them. One day he said to father _"Here, Lorenzo, these are the keys to the casa and the manufacture, do what you want with them. I'm fed up with all of it. Enjoy."_ He loves to tell this story and how father reacted. I think father wasn't thrilled to have to take over so soon. They hadn't been married for long, I just had made my presence known by making my mother throw up every morning, and he had just got his diploma and had been about to start on his doctor thesis, when it was all dumped on him…. Here he is."

Carefully Scipio opened one of the boxes and pulled out a portray darkened by age. Speechless the teenagers stared at the portray of a soldier in his early twenties. He was dressed like a hussar and had his shoulder-length curly black hair put in a pony-tail as fashion dictated about 200 years ago. His posture and eyes showed pride, but a decidedly amused smile laid on his lips. He had one hand on his epee and his other one directed the gaze of the contemplator towards the red and gold flag of the _Serenissma_. In the background one could see the family crest. The small tag on the gold picture frame read Alessandro Massimo, 1782.

"Oh my God, he looks like your own older brother." Mona's gaze wandered between the portray and Scipio.

"Morosina was right. There is an uncanny resemblance between you and him." Annia was awed.

"What do you know about him?"

"According to nan not much. But there are many document that haven't been perused and evaluated by her yet. We do know he was the commanding officer of the 2nd regiment of the city of Venice until 1795, when he left the army to take over the family business. His younger brother Giovanni, who had been in charge previously, died unexpectedly. We believe it had been appendicitis. He died without sons. Incidentally it was a very fortunate turn of events, because Napoleon attacked the Republic during his Italian campaign and the 2nd regiment got totally wiped out. It must have been a truly horrible bloodshed. As a result of the Peace of Campo Formio in 1797 the Republic of Venice ceased to exist. We became part of the Austrian empire and the market for Venetian glass more or less crashed as Bohemian glass became the latest fashion and hard years followed for all Venetian glass blowers and merchants.

Alessandro was married to Camilla Contarini and they had several children. Their son Giacomo took over business in 1809. Alessandro had married him off to the daughter of a Bohemian glass blower. Giacomo's portray hangs in father's study. He's his great idol, because he was sort of a Bill Gates in his time. He had the right ideas at the right time and was a truly gifted business man. Whatever he touched, turned to gold. He combined old Venetian art with Bohemian techniques and created a new style that made quite an impact. We had been rich before, but now we got filthy rich. He's the founder of our modern wealth. So one could say, while Napoleon was a disaster for Venice, he was the best thing that could have happened to my family, cynical as this sounds."

"So it's true, what people say about you? That you own half of Murano and a quarter of all apartments in Dorsoduro?" Mona asked curiously but with a certain naïve innocence. Scipio looked at her for a long moment before he answered.

"Certainly not! People always get it wrong. It's only a quarter of Murano and maybe half of all rented apartments in Dorsoduro."

"No kidding?" Annia asked.

"Would it matter, if it was true or not?" Scipio asked back, looking at her evenly.

"You know it doesn't to me." Annia answered slowly. "I mean, I don't care, if you own all of Murano and Dorsoduro or nothing at all. You're my Scipio. And all this.. " she made an encompassing gesture "…doesn't change the way the three of us look at you. It only helps us to understand you better. But I don't know what the others will say, when they come tomorrow. It could intimidate them or make them envious. Because they can't understand yet that all this wealth comes at a high price. They should see as little as possible. As unfair as this may sound. Prop, what do you think?"

"Huh? Sorry, I haven't listened. I've been thinking about something entirely else."

"What about?"

"Alessandro's portray dates from 1782. And if this is really Morosina's Alessandro, which we can safely assume from the stark resemblance to you…"

Scipio nodded.

"Although my great-great-grandfather was indeed called Alessandro, too, he can't be the right one. He looks like a Victorian pompous ass and not at all like me. No, this one here is the right Alessandro."

"Then I wonder…how old are they really?"

And it was as if his question had called a gust of cold wind blowing through the room and left them shivering for a moment.

"Come on, let's go back downstairs. You haven't seen where you're going to sleep tonight."

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Prosper opened a door to a guest-room and curiously Mona stepped in to put her bag down. Immediately her gaze fell onto the large bed. Turning around she smiled at Prosper who took her into his arms for a quick, but tender kiss.

"Cold feet?"

"No. And you?" She played with the short hairs in his nape.

"No. I want you, Mona. Tonight."

Mona shivered caused by the shot of arousal his husky words provoked. She pulled down his head again.

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Scipio led his girl-friend to another room close to his own.

"Here, this is your room." He offered carefully neutral.

Annia nodded and looked into his eyes for a moment, before she turned to leave after she had put down her bag. Scipio slumped a bit and followed her out. He knocked on the door way of his friends' room as their door stood ajar.

"We're downstairs in the kitchen." He announced.

"We join you in a minute." Mona called back, albeit a bit breathlessly.

_To be continued…_


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

_Comments: The movie our heroes are going to watch is "John Carpenter's The Fog" from 1979 for two reasons. First of all, this night is December 30, 2004. The remake "The Fog" is from 2005, so they can't watch that yet for plausible reasons. Secondly, even if the remake would already have been released, I don't think my Lorenzo would have purchased it. He looks to me more like someone who watches the classic movie rather than the remake._

_Besides, and on a personal note: I've seen parts of the remake and in my opinion it's rather boring, at least compared to the original. The dense atmosphere, the suspense and the horror that sneaks up on you are destroyed by the unnecessary addition of new scenes and change of old ones and the invention of new characters. And a bag of special effects doesn't make a bad script any better. Actually, I just would like to point out that it really helps to have watched the original movie to follow this chapter._ _That is, only if you're legally old enough to watch it. After all it's no family movie!_

When Mona and Prop entered the kitchen, Scipio and Annia had already started on their preparations for dinner. His friends' faces fell, when Prop had to tell them, that the jelly, Scipio had bought as surprise for Prosper took several hours cooling in the fridge. So they decided to have it the following night with the other members of their family. After a while Scipio excused himself and only returned when dinner was ready.

"Hey, did you get lost in your own home?"

"Ahm, no, but I prepared the living-room for later." That he had also prepared his little surprise for Annia he omitted conveniently.

About two hours later the dishwasher was rumbling quietly in the kitchen, rain drops were pelting against the windows, Prop sent Bo to bed by mobile phone and Annia told her parents that she had safely arrived at her sister's in Florence. Finally the household settled down and both couples made themselves comfortable in the love-seat and on the large couch. Each had a glass with water, juice or coke on the couch table in front of them and two bowls with potato chips and chocolates stood in the centre of the table. Scipio took the remote control and pressed "play". Anticipating silence befell the room as the intense opening music chimed up and the ticking of the old man's pocket watch made a thrilling contrast.

"Ooh, a ghost story at midnight…" Prosper mocked. Mona giggled.

"Ssh." He got hushed.

When the old ship came up next to the small trawler out of the fog, all mocking comments on bad hairstyles, out-dated clothes and antique technical equipment of the size of a dinosaur ceased. The girls gripped tightly the hands of their boys, fearing that something horrible would happen any moment now. As precaution Annia reached out to fetch a decorative pillow in case she might need to hide herself behind it, if the suspense became too much to bear.

When as expected and yet all of a sudden the first fisherman was slashed, Mona screamed and Annia flinched. Even Scip and Prop did, who manly tried to cover it up by grumbling about Mona's scream that was positively eardrum splitting and so the subsequent killing of the other two fishermen was only half as ghastly.

Minutes later when it knocked on Nick's door and it was foggy outside and a figure behind the glass door was immediately recognisable as one of the lost souls, Annia held her pillow up and pressed against her face.

"Is it over yet?"

Scip pressed a kiss onto her parting and whispered she could resurface. Only the clock had been destroyed. Everything was fine. No one had been slashed.

Prop couldn't help but whole-hearted agree with the mother, when the little boy stormed into her bedroom to wake her up and she complained about it. Little boys could be indeed very demanding in their boundless energy even at six in the morning.

"Hey, where are the fishermen?"

Along with Nick and Elizabeth they were puzzled, when the Sea Grass was found without the fishermen laying on deck, where they had been murdered the night before. And after a few moments at least one of them had been found. This time even the boys yelped.

"Chips anyone? Something to drink?" They tried to distract themselves from the scare. With pounding heart Mona snuggled even closer to Prosper, threw a leg over his lap and softly kissed his cheek, when everything turned sunny and normal again.

"Any bet that the dead man will get up any minute now?"

"Shut up, Scip."

"What? It's been too normal. Okay, the "6 must die" trick was pretty wicked, but…"

"Oh my God, he really gets up….I can't stand it…. RUN!"

"Ann, honey, put down the pillow, you miss everything…"

"Prop, will…"

Scipio and Annia rolled their eyes and smiled softly at each other. Prop and Mona didn't listen, neither to Annia nor to the mayor's boring speech. They were lost in each others eyes, exchanged soft kisses and rubbed tenderly their noses against each other. Prop's fingers caressed gently the patch of naked skin between her sweater and trousers. And so they missed not only the glowing fog drifting towards Antonio Bay but also the death of the patronising weatherman. That is, both couples missed his death because Scipio was busy fighting for Annia's pillow to encourage her to use his shoulder to bury her face in, when it got too much for her.

"Isn't it strange that the lost souls know exactly how to destroy the technical equipment of modern civilisation? How do they know what generators and telephone cables are for?" Scip whispered to Annia to distract her a bit, as she tensed up again. They looked up, when they heard some rustling from the other couch.

"What…oh."

"Ahm…" Prop and Mona stood with rosy cheeks next to the couch.

"Good night." Scipio said with velvet and a certain tenderness. Annia nodded and gave them a caring smile.

"You, too. See you in the morning?" Prosper undertook it to keep this mortifying situation at a manageable level, thankful that his friends didn't tease or leer.

"Breakfast at ten?" suggested Annia, thinking that her friends probably wouldn't get too much sleep tonight and that tomorrow a long day laid ahead for all of them. Everyone nodded. Silently Annia and Scipio watched the other couple leave the room, snuggled in each other's embrace.

"Well…."

They paused, while the movie took its course.

"Do you…"

"Scip, can we stop the movie, please? It really gives me the creeps. I'm afraid I will have nightmares tonight. Besides I'm rather tired."

They listened for a moment to the panicky voice of the radio talker, begging for help for her son trapped in the fog and watched how the nanny died.

"Certainly. Maybe Mona and Prop would like to watch the rest of it, too. Perhaps tomorrow before the others come."

And with a peck Annia slipped out of his embrace and stood up. Automatically she began to collect the glasses and half emptied bowls. Scip stopped the movie. Silence exploded in the room. He helped her putting the glasses on the tray, while she was fluffing the decorative pillows. Heavy rain still pelted against the windows. Both tried to ignore the elephant in the room.

"Annia?"

"What?" Her sharp voice betrayed her nervousness. She whirled around.

"Nothing. I just…" Scpio held an internal debate with himself. Annia truly seemed spooked. Was it really the time now? His conscience screaming at him to leave her alone, to wait a bit longer. But watching Prop and Mona… No, it was time to put his own plan of action into practice. He had run out of his patience a long time. He was tired of playing her game of two steps forward and one step back. Tonight, she would play by his rules!

"Would you please stay here for a moment? I'd like to show you something."

Curiously Annia nodded and sat down again. What was it that Scipio wanted to show only to her?

"Good. Don't run away. It won't take long." When he left, a smile appeared on his face that had a slight touch of underhandedness and his eyes sparkled and glittered dangerously. When he was done with the girl, she wouldn't know anymore which way was up. Not in vain he had been taught by the best in business.

A couple of minutes later he returned with a secretive smile.

"Come." He held out his hand for her. She took it and was led to a small door Scipio opened for her.

"Oohhh…" she breathed. She stepped onto the balcony Scipio had talked about earlier.

Suddenly all the beautiful frescos at the upper walls were up close, illuminated by soft light.

Scipio embraced her from behind.

"Don't look up. Look down." He whispered into her ear, before he kissed her earlobe softly.

"Oh… OH!…Scipio…"

Wide-eyed Annia looked down onto the dozens of tea-lights. Their flames flickered softly in an unnoticeable draft. They had been arranged to letters and letters were arranged to the sentence _"TI AMO"._

"I love you, Ann." Scipio repeated softly. "So much." And a rose appeared out of nowhere in front of her eyes. A shiver went down Annia's spine.

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In a room upstairs Prop, lying already in bed that was illuminated by the soft and flickering light of two thick candles, turned his head, when the bathroom door opened and Mona stepped out, clothed in a thick terry cloth bathrobe. His welcoming smile froze, when she opened her bathrobe and let it fall down with a soft thud. He swallowed hard. There she was standing with a smile and a hint of nervousness on her lips and dressed in her Eve's costume. He couldn't get his fill of her. Many times by now he had felt her body intimately, but he had never seen everything at once. Slowly he removed invitingly the covers and revealed that he had also dressed for the occasion. Her smile turned sensual and she stepped towards him, when he reached out for her. She let herself be enfolded by him. Immediately he rolled them over and pecked her, pushing a strand out of her face.

"Hi, tiger." She whispered lovingly.

"Hi, sexy." He smiled down on her.

When Prop teased her lips open, Mona closed her eyes and let herself fall. She knew he would catch her.

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Annia turned in his embrace.

"Oh, Mio, this is beautiful. I love you, too. Very much so."

He smiled.

"Dance with me?"

"You have to ask?"

His smile got knowing and seconds later his notebook played love ballads of his play-list for slow-dancing with Annia. They slowly rocked in each others arms, basking their closeness. With closed eyes Annia laid her head against his shoulder and lost herself in the lyrics of undying love and devotion, of finding each other and never letting go.

"Ann?" She felt his hot breath close to her ear.

"Hmh?" She answered languidly, deliciously tired and utterly comfortable.

"Will you spend the night with me?"

Wide awake again she stiffened in his arms.

"No, not like this. I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms and I want to wake up tomorrow with you by my side. Please, honey. Nothing will happen. I promise. You said the movie gives you nightmares. I want to be there to chase them away for you. Please, say yes."

She looked into his dark eyes, so soft and hopeful. And decided to _"just go with the flow"_.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes!"

"Yes." He whispered, laying his front against hers. "Then come."

"Wait. We have to blow out the candles first. We don't want to set the house on fire."

"You're right. It's enough, when our hearts go up in flames tonight."

"Scipio…." She warned him.

"Hush. No funny business. I promised."

They quickly hastened down the narrow staircase that led directly to the ceremonial room below. Giggling they took care of the tea-lights and Annia let herself willingly be guided back to the staircase in the ensuing blackness of the night. She would prepare for bed and wait for him in his room – with the large and comfy looking bed. Scipio still had to lock the door and activate the alarm system. If he didn't, police would come by as he had been told by his father. If this was actually true or just a means to control him, he didn't know. But for once he didn't want to put these theories to the test and have a bunch of policemen in the _casa _by midnight and ruin the mood for everyone. A couple of minutes later he returned to his room and found her sitting on his bed, brushing and braiding her hair, looking very thoughtful.

And indeed just mere moments ago, he would have found her staring at the bed, pondering some serious questions. She didn't expect and didn't want to fall immediately asleep in his arms. They would kiss and caress each other and perhaps loose themselves in greatest pleasure, as they had before. But…would they cross the invisible line and really sleep with each other? Scipio had promised her no, but…. It wasn't as if she was generally opposed to share her body completely with him. But she had been brought up to join the Order of St. Margaret. Yet she had never truly contemplated it. She was far too much her worldly father's daughter to hear God's call. But it had always been at least an option. Loosing her virginity to Scipio would bereave her of this option. But what was by far more grave was that she had observed how her sisters had been brought up to wait for marriage. And she had never questioned this idea, even as she witnessed how her eldest sister had followed that idea and her other sister didn't and how their lives had been affected by this decision.

Based on her albeit very limited experience with Roman boys she had thought she would fall in love only in her late teens, early twens and they would eventually marry after a year of getting to know each other. And she had thought, if the young man really loved her, he would wait for her and marriage. But then she had never expected to fall in love at an age so young. And she found herself with a new problem at hands. The question wasn't if the boy would wait for her, but if _she_ was still willing to wait… . _"Stop thinking." _She heard Mona's advice in her head.

She looked up, as he entered.

"Everything closed and locked? Alarm system activated?"

"Yes. Nothing can get in, no one can get out.I'm sorry about 'meda, but she usually sleeps with me." He pointed towards his cat, who sat next to the door and gazed unwavering at the humans.

"I don't mind."

He took his sleeping wear and vanished into the bathroom. "Be with you in a minute."

Meanwhile Annia watched the cat, as she jumped elegantly onto the bed. She seemed to be irritated for a moment to find the female human still sitting on her human's bed. She stretched out along the entire length claiming the other half of Scipio's bed as hers.

"Hey, this is my side, Andromeda!"

Scipio came back and chuckled, as he found his girls in a staring contest, one was annoyed, the other rather unimpressed.

"Will you look at this? I think she's jealous."

"And she's got all reason, don't you, 'meda? After all, you're not used to having to share your side of the bed with someone else." He grabbed his cat gently and pulled her over to the feet's end of the bed. "Come on, girl, move a bit. Let Annia in."

Dissatisfied by this outrageous treating of her Andromeda hissed, but soon curled around herself to be petted by Scipio. Automatically she closed her eyes and began to purr.

"It's a kind of ritual for us. It means, it's bed time for us."

"Won't you shut the door?"

"No. I always leave it a tiny bit ajar. This way she can leave during the night, if she wants to. There's always a window open especially for her for strolls on the roofs. But we both use it for our nightly outdoor activities, don't we, 'meda?"

Curiously Annia watched as Scipio removed his watch and put his mobile phone beside it on his bedside table.

"It's because of Bo. It's the first time that he's gone to bed knowing that Prop won't return tonight. Prop's a bit worried that he might get anxious, so he told him to either call him or me, if he panics. But I don't think that he really left his mobile phone switched on, not tonight. So if Bo rings, he will reach at least me to reassure him that everything's fine."

Annia nodded albeit a bit confused. It all appeared to be so routine, so unspectacular, so ordinary… This was the first night for them to sleep next to each other and… what? _What do you really expect_, she asked herself. _Do you want Scipio to break his promise because you're not brave enough to break it for him? Do you want him to make the decision for you so you can come out of this with a clean conscience? So you can justify your actions by not being responsible for them because he seduced you? You're a despicable coward, Annia Venturi! _They slipped under the covers and stretched out. At least she tried but met with an obstacle – Andromeda. Scipio turned off his bedside lamp and the room fell into darkness. There was a bit of rustling, and then an arm sneaked around her waist pulled her over to him to let himself spoon against her back. His feet found hers and then he… yelped.

"For God's sake, woman, what have you done? Stuck your feet into the fridge?!"

"Sorry", she giggled, "I can't help it. I always get cold feet."

"But not tonight." He took her feet between his to share his warmth with her and breathed deeply and content, before he turned her on her back for a moment to peck her.

"Good night, honey."

"What?!" Annia was surprised and even more confused about what she wanted.

"I said good night. Sweet dreams." She felt him sinking down again into the pillows.

"But…" Since she had her back to him, she couldn't see his roguish grin.

"Hush, be quiet. I want to sleep now."

He couldn't really want to _sleep_ now, could he? What kind of lukewarm boyfriend was he, that he didn't at least try to seduce her?! She hadn't agonised over the decision to sleep with him tonight only to learn that it never had been on his agenda in the first place!

"That's it?! I get one kiss and you roll away and fall asleep?! What are we? Married?" She voiced her dissatisfaction.

Scip bit his lip – hard – to suppress his laughter. He knew he would get her this way. A little bit of romance to get her in the mood to at least start thinking about _it_ and then….nothing. It would drive her crazy.

"What do you want? I'm tired." He groused a bit.

Annia turned in his embrace and propped herself up on an elbow to look down on him in the darkness, that was dimly illuminated by a street lamp close to his window.

"I want a proper good night kiss. Not such a lousy, measly, insignificant, totally boring…. hmph!"

Swiftly Scipio had pulled her down onto him.

"Better?" They were slightly breathless.

"There isn't just the tiniest chance that you orchestrated this carefully to have your way with me?" She asked, not knowing, if she should be angry with him or rather amused or even thankful about his underhand tactics.

"Would you be angry if I had?" He opened her braid, now sure, that he had won his battle. _"Start trusting Scipio."_

"Well, depends on how well you will make it up to me, you sneaky bastard." Scipio heard clearly the love in her voice. Yes, he knew his girlfriend well! He flashed her his most roguish smile. Her hand inched under his sleep shirt.

"One grows with the challenge…"

They giggled.

_to be continued..._


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51 **

_Comments: If any experienced native speaker would like to beta-read me, I'd be very grateful, because no matter how often I try to beta-read myself…. I still find mistakes long after I posted a new chapter. And I don't like that very much._

_Oh, this chapter comes with a 'R'... after all they do grow up ;-)_

When Prosper and Mona entered the kitchen the next morning shortly after ten, still a bit bleary-eyed but glowing from sheer happiness, Scipio and Annia were already there. Scip was only dressed in his sleep shorts and Annia wore his favourite Thief Lord t-shirt that had become too small for him since his last growth spurt and held a steamy mug of strong tea in her hands. Preoccupied with herself Mona couldn't pin it exactly, but there was something different about her best friend. Had she grown overnight?

"Morning, you sleepy-heads." Scipio looked up to greet them before he steered his attention back to serving his cat breakfast. Andromeda stood on her hind-legs and meowed pitifully. Half of the night she had been forced to spend out in the winter cold because of the ruckus her human and the girl had created in bed and then she hadn't got breakfast at her usual time on top. Yes, she was one very disgruntled cat this morning. Scipio had already a scratch to prove it on the back of his hand she had given him, when he had tried to pat her to make amends.

"Morning." The late comers greeted back. Carefully Mona sat down next to Annia and winced a bit. Annia looked commiserating over to her.

"Sore?"

"Like you wouldn't believe it." She answered unthinkingly.

"Here. Have one of mine." Annia rose slightly and gave one of the pillows she was sitting on to the other girl in white pyjamas that looked as if they had been just pulled on for the first time since ironed.

"Thanks….Ah, that's better. So you, too?"

Dumbfounded the boys listened to their girl-friends, divulging so carelessly their secrets.

"Hmh, yes. I'm feeling like I had a date with Vlad the Impaler last night."

"And I with his brother."

"Here, want to have a cup of tea? Milk, cocoa? Coffee? Or juice? What about you, Prop?"

"I'd like to have a glass of milk."

"Need to reload?" Scip winked, determined to pay the girls back in kind. If they could be so nonchalant and open about this, then they could it be, too.

"Yes. I'm totally worn out. Check my back, Scip. I think I have scratches an inch deep. I tell you, this woman ain't a lady." He pulled off his shirt and turned his back to Scip. Here and there, indeed faint crescent-shaped traces marred his skin Mona had left in her moment of pain.

"Ouch. She ain't either." Scip pointed towards Annia over his shoulder. "In broad light she's just a girl, but when the lights are out she turns into a vampire. I think tonight I will take garlic to bed as precaution." He addressed Annia with a smile. He turned to his friend and Prop whistled under his breath. His finger hovered over the bruise where the shoulder met the side of his throat. Faint bite-marks outlined it.

"Wow, that's what I call a love-bite. That must have hurt. A lot."

"Yes, didn't you hear my screams?"

"No, must have been drowned out by my own, when Mona ripped my flesh off."

The four looked at each other and burst into laughter and dissolved by exhilarating ridiculously a potentially embarrassing situation. The boys sat down and reached out for the brioches. Having breakfast the friends discussed their plans what to do until the rest of the family would arrive in the early afternoon. The idea to finish the movie was rejected in favour of some more time alone for each couple. It was true after all, they were really still tired. First of all the excitement of feeling close to each other like never before and then they were not used to have someone sleep next to them and had woken up every time their partner had moved in his or her sleep, which in turn had waken up the other.

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Back in their room, Prop threw a laughing Mona onto their still unmade bed. They rolled towards each other and automatically their hands found each other. They followed with their eyes how they played tenderly with each other and noticed how small her hand looked compared to his. Mona yawned.

"Hey, you're really still a bit tired, aren't you? And here I thought it was only a pretext to spend more time with me." He kissed her grinning.

"Mhm, tempting, but honestly, I could curl myself around you and fall asleep on the spot. What about you?"

Prop blushed a bit. Usually he wasn't into it, but there was indeed something he wanted to do since yesterday.

"Don't laugh, but I'd like to take a bath."

"A bath?!"

"Yes, I haven't done it for more than a year now. I'd like to soak into a huge, nice smelling bubble bath. Could I persuade you to join me or would you indeed rather take a nap?"

"Does it really have to be a bubble bath? Have you seen the jacuzzi in the master bathroom? I've never sat in a jacuzzi before. I'd like to try it. What do you think, hmh?"

"Mona, we can't! This is his father's bathroom. We can't just go in there."

"Why not? He's not here and who's going to tell him? Scipio? He said _mi casa es su casa."_

"I don't think he meant his father's stuff, too."

"We clean up afterwards and none is the wiser. Please…pretty please…" She smiled and started to nip carefully at his throat before she licked over the irritated skin. "I'll be good, if you go with me. Think about what we could do in there, tiger…"

Prop closed his eyes and when she felt a stirring at her hip, she knew, he would join her.

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With a huge smile Annia and Scipio let themselves fall onto the bed. Scipio didn't even ask, as he pulled his girl-friend up to pull off her shirt, before he pushed her down again into the pillows. He wanted an encore of last night. Tiredness was a thing of the past as she quickly returned his increasingly passionate kisses. When he licked and caressed her navel with his tongue, her hips lifted off the bed and quickly Scipio pulled down her underwear and let his sleep shorts follow. Full of expectation she spread her legs a bit and closed her eyes, when she felt a gentle finger moving downwards from her navel. Seconds later her eyes flew open and hissing she sat up, pushing Scipio away.

"OUCH!" She looked apologising at her boyfriend.

"Oh, Ann, I'm sorry. Come here." Tenderly he pulled her into his arms, willing himself to calm down and concentrate on her needs and objections. Willingly she snuggled into him.

"I'm sorry, too, Mio, but we can't. Right now it still hurts too much. I want it, too, believe me. I think… I feel like I can't get enough of it and of you." A bit ashamed and insecure she looked into his warm eyes. What did he think of her now? Did he still respect her or would he start to treat her as a toy, knowing she craved his touch?

"Mhm, can't get enough of me? That's good, because I can't get enough of you and what we did either." They smiled and exchanged some small kisses, before Scipio turned serious.

"Honestly, honey, I'm really sorry. Selena has told me what to do when we do it for the first time, and I went through it in my mind – step by step and over and over again. And when the time had come, I couldn't remember any of it anymore. I couldn't think at all. I just acted on pure instinct. I'm so sorry that I obviously hurt you so much. And I hate myself for it. If I had kept my wits, I could have made it less painful to you. At least a little bit."

"Ssh." She pressed a finger against his lips. "Yes, you hurt me last night. Yes, I'm still sore. And no, I don't make any reproaches to you. Neither should you. And yes, I want to do it again and again and again…." She pulled him over herself and watched Scipio's eyes turn darker. A delicious shiver ran down her spine.

"I'll be very gentle this time, I promise, Ann. I will make it as pleasurable for you as it was for me last night."

They lost themselves in each other, but when she felt his tenderly probing finger she stiffened again. Panting Scipio looked unbelievingly at her.

"I can't."

She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to see disappointment and perhaps anger in his eyes for goading him on once more only to let him down again. She felt butterfly kisses moving up her arm towards her ear.

"I think I have an idea. What do you think about a bath? It'll help to relax your muscles. Think about…the jacuzzi in my father's bathroom."

"A jacuzzi? You've got a jacuzzi here?" She started to smile. "Let's go."

She rolled out of his arms and jumped out of bed. Surprised Scipio watched appreciatively her backside and shouted a _hey_, when she had her hand on the doorknob.

"What?" She looked over her shoulder at him.

"I suggest you dress first. We're not alone in the _casa_, you know."

"Pah, I think whatever they're doing right now, it's not taking a nap OR wandering around in the _casa_."

"Still…."

She turned around and leant with her back against his door. Her bronze skin and black hair made a very nice contrast against the white and gold of his door, Scipio realised and hurried to leave his bed. He grabbed their clothes and approached her.

"Grrh, tiger." Wide-eyed she watched him fall down to his knees in front of her with a gleam in his eyes.

"Mhm…" He inhaled her scent deeply before he nuzzled her with his nose. Her head flew backwards against the door, when the tip of his tongue slipped between her folds for a very first taste.

"Aahhh." She screamed in surprise. Her skin flushed instantly and her hips bucked forward.

"Woah, Ann….you, Mary mother of God, you…." Instead of finishing his sentence, Scipio went back, while his hands firmly grabbed her legs to make her spread them wider. Her taste filled his mouth, her moaning and panting filled his ears and her skin felt hot in his hands. One last bucking of her hips and he caught the trembling girl in his arms, when her legs couldn't support her any longer. Gently he brought her down to him. Lovingly he pushed some sweaty strands out of her face and caressed her cheek, begging her to open her eyes, which she did eventually. Scipio shuddered when he saw their dreamy expression and the sated, soft smile. He loved pleasuring her, loved her unfocused expression of spent lust. When her gaze fell onto his face that still showed naked lust and desire, she turned scarlet in a heartbeat thinking of what he had done to her mere moments ago. She hid behind an arm she threw over her eyes.

"No use, honey. Even if you can't see me, I still can see you. And I like very much what I see." He managed a short amused laugh. Defiantly she pulled out her tongue at him.

"Yes, that's the whole idea, Annia."

She blushed again. But then, she hadn't been the girl to hole up in Rome, she surely wouldn't start now. She would avenge herself and wipe that smug smile of his face that was still glistening from her juices. Scipio's caught his breath, when her face took on a predatory expression. He let himself fall back on his hands. His eyebrows moved up, when he saw her licking her lips. Moaning in anticipation he closed his eyes, when her tongue started to lick him clean before she demanded entrance. Mona shuddered, when she tasted herself on him.

"Mhm, I taste delicious on you." She breathed boldly and moved her hand down to play with him.

"Mhm, I think so, too." Scipio managed to answer between pants and then he forgot breathing, when wet heat engulfed him. He barely managed to keep his eyes focussed, torn between the need to close them to feel her tongue more intensely and the need to watch her. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought it would feel that goddamned great! And suddenly Mona was forced to make a decision in a fraction of a second - to swallow or to pull back. And then it was already too late. She shuddered in slight distaste, when she tasted his bitter salty essence. She looked up at him. He looked like his post-orgasmic self, only more shattered than usual. He had loved it - that much was more than obvious. When he opened his eyes again, his breath caught once more in his throat. She was still kneeling over him with a wild look in her eyes and white globs were slowly running down her chin. She swept them off and licked her finger clean, knowing she would get used to his taste quickly enough.

"God, I love you!" he exclaimed groaning.

She giggled amused. "Don't you really mean you love _it_?" She teased.

"Both!" He grinned a bit sheepishly. " I think, I can't move anymore." He stretched out an arm for her to snuggle into his embrace. The cool floor felt heavenly against their heated skin.

"Love you, too." She whispered.

"Love you back." He answered with in a low voice, ready to fall asleep on the spot.

"Hey, come on up. You promised me the jacuzzi."

Groaning he stood up, held out his hand, pulled her up and after a quick kiss that gave him a hint of his own taste, they dressed and hand in hand they walked down the hall and opened the door to his father's bathroom.

_Tbc……_


End file.
